His text arrived at 12:17: We have Forty-five minutes. I was already standing at the window when his car turned into the street. I'd spent the morning pretending to work, which is to say I'd read the same email four times and thought about nothing but the feeling of his hands on me, slipping under my satin robe. I opened the door before he could knock. His jacket was slung over one arm like he started getting undressed in the lift, and for a moment he just looked at me, at the robe and the bare legs beneath it, and the whole careful day seemed to fall off him. "Hello Handsome," I said. "Hello Baby," said Mike, dropping the jacket on the chair by the door. The door slammed behind him. I was against it before I'd drawn a breath, his hands in my hair, his mouth hot and hungry on mine, and I felt the whole length of him pressing me into the wood. I'd meant to be playful. I'd had a plan, something about taking control. I forgot it completely. "Forty-five minutes," I managed. "Forty-one." "Then stop talking." He laughed, low and breathless, and untied the robe with one tug. It slid off my shoulders and pooled at my feet, and his eyes travelled over me with a kind of reverent greed that made my knees weak. "You've been naked under that all morning." "Since eleven." "Christ." His hands found my breasts, his thumbs dragging over my nipples until I gasped, and then his mouth followed, hot and wet, his teeth grazing just hard enough to make me arch off the door. I tore at his shirt buttons. One popped and skittered across the floorboards, and neither of us cared. I got his belt open, his trousers pushed down, and wrapped my hand around him. He was hard and heavy in my grip, and he swore into my neck as I stroked him. "Bed," he said. "Now. Or I'm taking you right here." "Here," I said. He stared at me for a heartbeat, then lifted me clean off the floor. My legs wrapped around his waist, my back against the door, and the angle was perfect. I reached between us and guided him into me, and he pushed into me in one long, deep thrust that punched the breath out of both of us. "Oh, God." "Yes," I said. "Like that." He fucked me against the door, hard and fast, no patience in it at all. Each thrust drove me up the wood, my heels digging into his back, his hands gripping my thighs so tightly I knew there'd be marks. The sounds were obscene, skin slapping skin, my cries, his ragged breathing, the door knocking in its frame. I clung to his shoulders and gave him everything, and when he slid a hand between us and found my clit, I came in seconds, violently, with a cry that must have carried to the neighbours. He didn't stop. He carried me, still inside me, down the hall, and dropped me onto the bed with a bounce. "Thirty-two minutes," he said, grinning, flushed, wild-eyed. "Then you'd better make them count." He pulled out and flipped me onto my stomach. I heard him kick off what was left of his trousers and shirt, and then his weight was over me, his mouth at my ear. "Hands and knees." I obeyed. He took me from behind, one hand knotted in my hair, the other gripping my hip, and the angle was so deep that I buried my face in the pillow and cried out into it. He slowed down just long enough to draw it out, long, deliberate strokes that had me begging, then sped up again until the headboard hammered the wall. When I came the second time, it came from somewhere low and deep and shattered me completely, my whole body shaking, my arms giving way. He pulled out, and before he could turn me over again I put a hand flat on his chest and pushed him onto his back. "My turn," I said. He looked up at me, flushed and wrecked, his chest heaving, and the clock on the bedside table was suddenly the furthest thing from either of our minds. I straddled his hips and took him in my hand, slick with me and still impossibly hard, and I held him there against me and watched his face as I sank down. Slowly. All the way. His head went back into the pillow. His hands clamped around my hips, and a sound came out of him that I felt in my own bones. "You feel incredible." "Don't move," I said. "Let me." I rode him the way I'd been thinking about all morning: slow, deep, grinding down until I'd taken every inch, then lifting almost off him just to drop back down and watch his control fray. His eyes tracked my breasts, my stomach, the place where we were joined. When I leaned forward and braced my hands on his chest, he lifted his hips to meet me, and we found a rhythm that was almost cruelly good. He lasted. God, he lasted. I'd have called it patience if it hadn't looked so much like torture. Every time I felt him swell and shudder, he'd grit his teeth and tighten his grip on me and breathe through it, and I'd slow, and tease, and start again. I came on him once like that, quietly, my forehead against his, and he held me through it with a hoarse laugh and said, "Again," and I did. Somewhere in the third time, I caught his face in my hands. "Mike." "Mm." "We're not meant to." My voice had gone ragged. He knew exactly what I meant. His hands went still on my hips, his eyes dark and searching, and I felt his whole body go taut beneath me. We had rules. We had good, sensible reasons for them. And I was sitting on top of him, wet and shaking and utterly unwilling to care about any of them. "I know," he said, barely a breath. "I know." I repeated. I rocked down on him, slow and deep, and he groaned. I bent to his ear. "Come inside me." He made a sound I'll never forget. His fingers dug into my hips and then he couldn't hold back any longer, and I didn't want him to. I ground down hard and fast, chasing it, and he thrust up to meet me. I felt it break through him, his whole body arching off the mattress, a long, ragged groan tearing out of his chest as he pulsed deep inside me, hot and endless. The thought of it, the forbidden, filthy thrill of it, tipped me over right behind him, and I clenched around him, crying his name against his mouth. We lay there for a long time afterwards, my cheek on his chest, his hand tracing slow lines down my spine, neither of us speaking. I could feel him still inside me, the heat of him, and I didn't move. "We really shouldn't have," Mike said eventually, though he sounded anything but sorry. "No," I said. "We really shouldn't." "That's what made it so good." Eventually the clock won, as it always does. He showered quickly, and I listened to the water from the bed, flushed and deliciously sore, still lying where he'd left me, my thighs parted and slick with him. When he came back he was damp, a towel slung low on his hips, and he dressed slowly, reluctantly, while I watched. He got as far as half-buttoning his shirt, then stopped. I saw him look at me, really look, and something dark and satisfied crossed his face. He came back to the bed. He didn't say anything at first. He sat on the edge and let his hand drift down my stomach, over my hip, and between my thighs, and when his fingers found me, still wet and warm with what he'd left inside me, my breath caught and my hips lifted helplessly to meet him. He held his hand there, firm and unhurried, spreading the warmth slowly against me as though he were claiming it all over again. His eyes never left mine. "I want you thinking about me every time you move," he said. I could barely breathe. "I will." "Every time." He pressed once more, slow and deliberate, and I shuddered. Then he kissed me, soft and unhurried, and stood, and finished buttoning his shirt as though he hadn't just undone me all over again. The door clicked shut behind him. I lay there smiling at the ceiling, and the first time I shifted against the sheets, I felt him again, and I thought about nothing else for the rest of the afternoon...

6 November 2026

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Nog maar net bijgekomen van de vorige date is het alweer tijd voor een weekendje Halloween. Ik stap het hotel binnen in mijn iets pikante outfit. Ogen op me gericht. Ik voel me ongemakkelijk met al mijn spullen: een grote koffer met de Hismith-fuckmachine erin en twee tassen vol kleding en toys. Ongelofelijk hoeveel er mee gesjouwd moet worden, maar dit keer voor een goed doel. Ik voel me bekeken, alsof iedereen weet wat voor slet ik ben. En toch geniet ik ervan. Na wat ongemakkelijk gedraai kom jij, mijn Meneer Robert naar beneden om me uit mijn lijden te verlossen en neem je me mee de lift in. Zodra de deuren sluiten zak ik direct naar de grond, op mijn knieën. Midden in de lift. Ik weet dat dit mijn plek is en wacht geduldig. Op de vierde verdieping sta ik soepel op en lopen we naar de kamer. Bij binnenkomst zet je me meteen weer op mijn knieën, m’n wang tegen de vloer gedrukt. Je beveelt me te blijven liggen. Gehoorzaam. De spanning giert door mijn lijf en mijn kutje begint zich al te vullen. Ogen dicht. Ik voel me precies op mijn plek. Je pakt mijn nieuwe grote glazen plug, spuugt erop en duwt hem in één vloeiende beweging mijn strakke kontje in. Even is het zwaar; hij is groter dan ik dacht en mijn reet is nog strak, maar ik herpak me en blijf netjes liggen. Ik hoor je rondlopen. Dan valt de deur dicht. Ik ben even verbaasd, maar verander geen millimeter van houding. Je hebt me achtergelaten. Ik lig daar, plug in mijn kont, op de deur gericht en voel alleen overgave. De deur gaat weer open. Later weer dicht. Ik heb geen idee wie er binnen komt. En of je binnen of buiten bent. Het maakt niet uit. Ik ben Uw sletje. Ik beweeg pas als jij dat zegt. Het voelt heerlijk. Tijdsbesef heb ik niet. Na enige tijd voel ik dat je je achter me staat, grijpt me bij mijn haren en trekt me naar de stoel. Je trekt de glazen plug eruit en duwt iets van staal tegen mijn kontje. Ik weet meteen wat het is. Paniek schiet door mijn hoofd. Die grote, holle ijzeren plug. Je duwt hem stukje bij beetje naar binnen. Stroef. Zo anders dan een gewone plug. Ik voel mijn reet steeds verder openstaan, hoor het soppende geluid en dan schuift hij er ineens in. Wagenwijd open. Je vingers glijden naar binnen, strelen de binnenkant van mijn darm, kietelen. Mijn kontje smakt nat.. ik sta zo open en ik weet dat jij dat precies zo wilt. Het maakt me ongelooflijk geil. Wat een heet begin. Je haalt de plug eruit en beveelt me de machine klaar te maken. Wasteland Halloween staat op de planning, maar zelf hebben we nog een kleine verrassing in petto voor Chickonamission_ die niet veel later arriveert bij het hotel. We dineren met haar en gaan dan terug naar de kamer. Zodra ze binnenstapt zet jij haar, precies zoals we hadden afgesproken, klem tegen de muur. We ontdoen haar van haar kleding, binden haar vast en laten de machine haar genadeloos neuken. Ik zet de Satisfyer op haar klit en laat haar komen. En nog een keer. En nóg een keer. Ze houdt zich niet in, het gekerm en gekreun moet op de halve verdieping te horen zijn. Het voelt machtig en geil om eens aan de andere kant te staan. Nadat ze meerdere keren is klaargekomen is het mijn beurt. De machine ramt eerst mijn kutje bruut open en neukt mijn kontje daarna met een nog grotere dildo. Ongekende kracht. Ongekende diepte. Mijn eerste orgasme van de avond komt hard. Daarna is het onze beurt om jou te bedanken. We nemen allebei jouw pik onder handen, maar één beurt is niet genoeg. Ik wil dat je haar neukt. Wanneer ik jouw pik in haar zie glijden, komt er een enorme golf geilheid over me. Dit is de eerste keer dat ik jou iemand anders voor mijn neus zie neuken en het is zo intens geil. Onze ogen blijven elkaar vinden terwijl jij haar ruw neemt. Chick geniet zichtbaar, en hoorbaar. en ook met haar deel ik intense blikken. Je fluistert iets in haar oor. Ze kijkt me aan. “Volgens mij moet mijn vuist in je kutje, Lana,” zegt ze. Ik spreid mijn benen. Chick duwt haar vuist kundig naar binnen en begint te fisten. Jij neukt haar hardhandig verder, en zij fist mij in hetzelfde ritme. Fuck, dit is zo intens. Je haalt je pik uit haar en brengt je eigen vuist genadeloos bij haar naar binnen. Daar liggen we: een treintje dat op tempo door dendert. Chick en ik gaan gelijk op. Het tempo verhoogt gestaag, sneller en sneller worden onze kutjes tot het uiterste opgerekt. We kijken elkaar aan, maar zien onze ogen wegdraaien als we ons orgasme voelen opkomen. Het is een onhoudbare goederentrein geworden die door mijn hele lichaam dendert.. Niet veel later komen we gillend en spuitend klaar. Het is inmiddels al lang tijd om te gaan en we maken ons snel klaar en vertrekken naar Wasteland. Het belooft een hete nacht te worden.. We komen aan bij Wasteland. Ik geniet van de mensen, het idee dat deze kink wereld soms te mooi is om waar te zijn, maar ik voel ook dat ik nog lang niet voldaan ben. De geilheid zit nog diep in mijn lichaam. We besluiten Chick te fisten. Midden op de dansvloer buig je haar over een olievat heen. Haar billen staan naar je toe, terwijl je haar stevig vasthoudt. Ruw duw jij weer je vuist in haar terwijl ik haar haren naar achter trek. Ze komt hard klaar. Haar gekerm valt deze keer weg tegen de harde beats, maar de mensen om ons heen hebben een prima zicht op wat er gebeurt. Je haalt je vuist uit haar gebruikte kutje, ik zie het geil in dikke slierten tussen je vingers hangen. Daarna word ik verrast: je zet me hardhandig neer, er wordt gesmoesd, en plots verdwijnt jouw hand krachtig in mijn strakke reet. Midden op de dansvloer. Iedereen kijkt. Ik wil op adem komen, maar Chick zakt op haar knieën en werkt haar vuistje nu mijn kutje in. Ze moet even wroeten, maar vindt de weg. Jouw vuist en de hare kruisen elkaar in mij. Oh hemel. Ik word tegelijk gefist door twee mensen. Eén in mijn kont, één in mijn kut. Mensen kijken. Wijzen. Ik voel jullie knokkels tegen elkaar drukken van binnen… alsof jullie me samen openbreken. Ik kan alleen maar staren en me overgeven aan de vloedgolf. Ik kom intens klaar. Het einde nadert. We zoeken nog een hoekje voor een klein afscheidsshowtje. Ik houd ervan als anderen, vooral vreemden, met hun neus bovenop staan terwijl jij met me doet wat jij wilt. Mijn kontje is zo goed opgewarmd dat je in één beweging je vuist er weer in wringt en me genadeloos fist voor een paar toeschouwers. De blikken zijn onbeschrijfelijk. Het maakt me zo geil. Maar je laat me niet komen. Het is tijd om te gaan. Chick zet ons af bij het hotel. Daar gaat het verder. Je legt me op bed en neukt me de wereld uit. Ik zit zo vol geilheid, zo vol avontuur, zo vol overgave, dat ik je alleen nog maar al mijn gaatjes kan geven. Allemaal van U . Jij gebruikt ze zoals U dat wilt. Uren lang. Ik verdwijn in subspace. Je gebruikt me als jouw neukgrot en het voelt intens en fijn. Je neukt me met de grote nieuwe dildo die ik van een lieve fan heb gekregen. Hij is intens, maar mijn overgave is groter. Je duwt hem bijna helemaal mijn kontje in. Intens. Geil. Bijzonder. Ik wil nergens anders zijn. Mijn lichaam is niet meer van mij alleen. Elke stoot, elke diepe druk, elke keer dat je me vult, vervaagt de grens tussen jou en mij verder. Ik voel hoe je me gebruikt, hoe je me opent, hoe je me claimt , me bezit en tegelijk verdwijn ik erin. Geen gedachten meer, geen verzet. Ik ben helemaal van U.

5 November 2026

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Het was twee weken geleden dat we elkaar zagen en mijn Meneer had een speciale verrassing voor me in petto Twee weken hebben we elkaar niet gezien . En als ik ergens naar uitkijk, dan is het naar jou. Ik word wakker met een super nat kutje dat verraadt hoe ontiegelijk geil ik word bij het idee van wat me te wachten staat. En de wetenschap dat onze dates nooit hetzelfde zijn, zorgt ervoor dat mijn geilheid en spanning nog erger wordt. Ik maak me klaar. Laat liters water mijn strakke kontje in lopen, diep mijn darmkanaal in, tot alles goed is doorgespoeld. Die voorbereiding is voor mij zo’n geil onderdeel van de dag. Mezelf schoonspoelen om jou urenlang neukbare gaatjes te kunnen leveren… dat is voor mij zo’n geil en diep submissief gebaar.. Aan het einde van 2 uur voorbereiding stop ik om jou te verrassen een dikke tunnelplug in mijn kontje. Ik voel me er klaar voor. Ik zit klaar in mijn wachtpositie. Dit keer ben ik bewust een minuut of tien eerder gaan zitten, zodat ik de tijd heb om te landen. Mijn lichaam reageert al op de spanning; de plug beweegt mee met iedere samentrekking van mijn nu nog strakke reetje. Je hoort het ook: het zachte, natte geluid van mijn kontje dat inwendig open en dicht gaat. Ik hoor de deur. Jij stapt binnen. Ik hoor dat je je tas met gereedschap en slagwerk op tafel legt en open ritst. Je loopt rustig mijn kant op en begint met inspecteren. Je lijkt aangenaam verrast als je de plug ziet. Dat maakt mijn kutje meteen nóg natter. “Dag sletje… heb je me gemist?” fluister je zacht tegen mijn oor. Ik hoef niets te zeggen. Mijn hele lichaam verraadt me al. Mijn kutje knijpt kort samen. De plug wordt daarmee nog voelbaarder. Je rommelt in je spullen. Plotseling mengt de geilheid zich met een lichte angst. Ik weet dat ik de afgelopen periode niet altijd even gehoorzaam ben geweest. Mijn mondje heeft soms onverstandige dingen gezegd. Iets dat wel vaker gebeurd. Je loopt om me heen. Af en toe voel ik iets kouds en hards tegen mijn billen. Het wachten, het niet weten wanneer de klap komt, is bijna erger dan de klap zelf. Je geeft me twee harde slagen. Ergens voelt het alsof ik er makkelijk vanaf kom. “Daar komen we straks nog verder op terug, sletje.” Oh fuck. Toch niet. Je pakt touw en bindt me kundig vast. Armen strak achter mijn rug. Je hebt de anal hook gepakt. Deze past precies in de holle plug. Je steekt hem in mijn kontje en de haak houdt de plug diep op zijn plaats. Je verbindt alles met een harnasje. Mijn kontje, mijn handen, de haak.. alles is netjes verbonden.. Eenmaal goed vastgebonden draai je de fauteuil om en ram je je pik in één beweging diep mijn keel in. Je begint ritmisch te stoten. Hard. Diep. Ik probeer van de verrassing te bekomen, terwijl je mijn mondje neukt. Ik besta op dat moment alleen als neukgat voor jouw genot. Bij iedere stoot schuift de plug heen en weer in mijn kont. Je bent ruw, hardhandig, precies zoals ik het nodig heb. Dan stop je abrupt. Je pakt me bij mijn haren en beveelt me van de stoel af, op handen en knieën. “Volgen.” Ik kruip achter je aan, de trap op. Ik denk dat we naar de fuckmachine gaan, maar je neemt een onverwachte wending naar de badkamer. Je maakt het touwwerk los, maar laat de plug zitten. Je beveelt me mijn kleding uit te doen en zodra ik dit heb gedaan zet je me neer in de douche, benen wijd. Je pakt de 'boemerang', een stalen gekromde dildo met dikkere uiteinden, en begint me er hard en snel mee te neuken. Ik schrik ervan. De geilheid in mijn G-spot bouwt zo snel op dat ik voel dat het eruit wil spuiten. Jij voelt het ook en stopt precies op tijd. “Op je rug.” Ik gehoorzaam. Weer begin je me hard te neuken, met je handen en de boemerang, en steeds als je voelt dat ik er bijna uitga, stop je. Tot je ineens aan mijn benen trekt . “Billen omhoog. Tegen de muur.” Ik doe wat je zegt. Lig half ondersteboven, met mijn kont omhoog, richting het plafond, benen in mijn nek. Je duwt je hand hardhandig mijn zeiknatte, bijna klaarkomende kut in en begint ruw te bewegen. Je vingers weten precies waar ze moeten zijn. Niet veel later schreeuw ik het uit. “Alsjeblieft… mag ik klaarkomen Meneer?” Je geeft toestemming. Ik kan niet anders. Ik squirt vol over mezelf heen. De opbouw is zo intens geweest dat er liters geil kutvocht uit me lijken te stromen. Ik proef het. Ik ruik het. Ik voel het over mijn buik, mijn tieten, mijn gezicht lopen. Het voelt smerig, vies, en tegelijk zo intens geil. Ik probeer bij te komen. Maar je vingers gaan opnieuw tekeer in mijn kutje. En telkens wanneer ik denk dat ik op ben, leeg ben, laat je me opnieuw komen. En weer squirt ik mezelf onder. Het loopt als een fontein van mijn kutje, over mijn buik en tieten, over mijn gezicht.. Er begint een plas op de douchevloer te ontstaan. En ik lig er midden in. Je trekt me omhoog, nog trillend van de laatste orgasme. Mijn benen zijn slap, mijn ademhaling kort en onregelmatig. Je zet me op mijn knieën in de douche, handen op mijn dijen, en kijkt me aan. Zonder haast. Alsof je precies weet hoeveel ruimte je me geeft om bij te komen, en hoeveel je me daarvan weer afneemt. Je pakt mijn kin, tilt mijn gezicht omhoog en zegt: “Kijk me aan terwijl je nog een keer komt.” Ik gehoorzaam. Je vingers glijden terug tussen mijn benen, vinden meteen de plek die nog overgevoelig is, en beginnen opnieuw. Langzaam eerst, dan harder, dieper. Mijn lichaam is al zo open, zo nat, zo ver over de rand, dat het amper tijd nodig heeft. De druk bouwt razendsnel weer op. Ik wil iets zeggen, om toestemming vragen, maar je schudt alleen je hoofd. “Nu.” Ik kom opnieuw. Harder dan de vorige keren. Mijn lichaam schokt, mijn kutje spuit opnieuw, en ik blijf je aankijken terwijl het gebeurt. Tranen van overgave, van pure geilheid, van het gevoel dat ik nergens anders hoor dan precies hier. Dan laat je me los. “Fatsoeneer jezelf en kom weer aangekleed naar beneden sletje.” Ik doe precies wat er gevraagd wordt. Ik zet de douche aan, spoel het meeste van mezelf af, en leun even tegen de tegels en sta te trillen op mn benen. Geluk en pure geilheid nemen de overhand. Zodra ik aangekleed ben ga ik naar beneden. Ik stop bij de deur van de hal en vraag zacht of ik binnen mag komen. Jij hebt een kleedje voor me neergelegd op de vloer. Mijn plek. Ik voel me direct thuis als ik op de grond tussen jouw benen ga zitten, op m’n knieën. M’n hoofd aan je voeten en ik heb geen idee hoelang ik daar gelegen heb. Na een tijdje pak je mijn hoofd op en kijk je me aan. Jouw blik is rustig, maar ook bezittelijk. Je geeft me geen tijd om verder te dromen. Je bent van plan me precies te gebruiken zoals U dat wilt. Je beveelt me op mijn rug te liggen. Ik gehoorzaam meteen. Door de manier van het insmeren van je handen met glijmiddel heb ik een vermoeden wat me te wachten staat. Je stopt vier vingers in mijn kutje en begint met trage, ronde cirkels. Diep. Dwingend. Dan, zonder waarschuwing, duw je je hele vuist naar binnen. Ik ben zo geil, zo diep in overgave, dat het me niets kan schelen. “Ik ben van U en U doet met mij wat U wilt” is het enige dat nog in mijn hoofd klinkt. Verder denk ik niets. Ik verdwijn in pure geilheid terwijl je vuist dieper en dieper gaat. De spanning op mijn kutje wordt steeds harder, dikker, onvermijdelijk. Je bent bezig om ook je andere vuist bij me naar binnen te proppen. Het voelt zo intens om zo gevuld te worden. Het duurt niet lang voordat je twee dikke, grote vuisten helemaal in mijn kutje hebt geboord. Het is zó vol. Zo absurd vol. Je beweegt ze een klein beetje heen en weer, voor zo ver als de ruimte nog toelaat, en ik mag mijn Satisfyer erop zetten. Ik kom intens hard klaar op jouw twee vuisten. Mijn kutje probeert te knijpen, te pulseren, maar er is simpelweg geen ruimte meer. Het is zo bizar, zo overweldigend om te voelen dat mijn lichaam zich niet eens kan samentrekken omdat jij het volledig hebt ingenomen. Nadat ik probeer te oriënteren na m’n orgasme trekt je jouw vuisten er kundig uit. Dan voel ik de verplaatsing: van kutje naar mijn reet. Die is al goed opgewarmd door de tunnelplug, dus je duwt zonder moeite je hele vuist naar binnen. Het maakt me intens geil. Je begint mijn kontje ruw te fisten; diep, hard, genadeloos, terwijl ik voel hoe je andere hand weer naar mijn kutje beweegt. Vingers glijden naar binnen. Dan meer. Dan nog meer. Ik ben zo ontzettend geil dat het me niets kan schelen wat je met me doet, zolang jij er zin in hebt. En in me zit. Geen weerstand. Geen paniek. Geen gedachte of het past. Alleen geilheid en totale overgave. Je propt meer vingers bij mijn kutje naar binnen totdat ik voel dat ik nu écht helemaal vol zit. Je fist me. Dubbel. Eén vuist in mn kut. En één vuist in m’n reet. Fuck. “Het is gelukt sletje!” Ik voel jouw enthousiasme bijna via je vuisten heen. Maar ik heb geen tijd en voel hoe een nieuwe, zware lading geilheid door me heen spoelt. Je fist mijn kontje én mijn kutje tegelijk, genadeloos, diep, alsof je me helemaal wilt openbreken of kapot maken. Ik ben niks meer dan een nat, open, geil gat dat bestaat om door jou gebruikt te worden. En ik wil niks anders. Opnieuw mag ik de Satisfyer erop zetten en weer kom ik zo intens hard klaar. Een ontlading en ik ben gesloopt. Ik krijg de tijd om op adem te komen en na te genieten van deze intense bijzondere ervaring. Op de grond. Op mijn plek. Het is niet normaal hoe trots en dankbaar ik ben dat dit ons gelukt is.

5 November 2026

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She's stuck on the side of the road, no money, no transport and no real destination. Thumb out hoping for a ride. Along comes a beaten up wreck of a car and the driver is unshaven and muscular. She second guesses herself but thinks. What the hell, there hasn't been a car for ages. Plus. It's been raining and her clothes are soaked through. Her white blouse is starting to reveal her tight petite figure. She wished that she'd worn her bra this morning. It's a brisk afternoon and her body is cover in goosebumps showing how cold she really is. She reaches for the door handle... He asks her. "Where to love" she hesitantly replies. "No where in particular" His eyes are all over her. She knows exactly where he is looking. But the heater is on and it's warm inside. So... she gets in. They drive in silence. She starts to warm up. He keeps looking over and he adjusts his rear vision mirror, aligning it so his view is on her and nothing else. He notices that she is no longer cold. He thinks, this just won't do. He leans forward and turns off the heater and winds down his windows. She complains about the cold and is instantly cold from the chill. He drives on... in silence. The kind of silence that makes you think!!! He says to her "there is a jacket in the back, you can wear it, but... Not with your wet dress on." She's cold and not given much choice. So she undresses and put on the jacket. It barely covers her. But it's warm, and smells so good. Abruptly, he grabs her dress and throws it from the vehicle. An evil grin appears on his face. She feels so helpless now and wonder what is likely to happen. He gently and methodically places his hand on her knee and reassures her that everything will be just fine. And there it stays, on her knee and doesn't move. His hand is warm and feels very strong. Even if she didn't want it there, she assures herself, there would be little chance that she could remove it. Suddenly she is aware that the hand is slowly moving further down her thigh with every bump of the car. Was this her imagination. No. It was moving. With much hesitation she feels her legs slowly part as if they have a mind of their own. Maybe in the very primal part of her brain, she wanted this to happen. As his hand crept slowly down and he was distracted by the road ahead she reached behind her and un-holstered the small calibre hand gun that was holstered into the small of her back in its skin coloured waist belt. She knew a time would come when this may come in handy. She remembers her daddy's word. Always maintain a distance between yourself and your attacker. Don't handle a firearm unless you plan to follow through. And follow through she did. Quick as a flash, the gun was out and a round had been fired. With his window open, what remained of the right side of his head was on the road behind them. He went limp and the car idled to a halt as she grabbed the wheel. She opened his door and pushed him out. Callous, YES. But... the rest of the journey was with the heater going full blast.

4 November 2026

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Dit jaar had ik besloten om eindelijk eens naar een echt Oktoberfest te gaan. Die in Sittard is ook groot, maar ik wilde het authentieke. En niet zomaar een dagje, maar een paar dagen München. Lederhosen aan en me onderdompelen in de chaos van bier, muziek en vrouwen in dirndls. Ik ben Robert, 61 uit Rotterdam. Atletisch gebouwd, bruine ogen en eigenlijk altijd wel op zoek naar avontuur. En ik was niet alleen gegaan; een paar vrienden waren mee. We hadden samen de trein gepakt, de lederhosen aangetrokken en waren de eerste tent binnengelopen met grote plannen voor een legendarisch weekend. De lederhosen zat strak. Donkerbruin leer, de korte broek die mijn dijen en kont accentueerde, witte sokken tot onder de knie, een geruit hemd dat half open stond zodat de contouren van mijn gespierde torso zichtbaar waren. De bretels drukten licht tegen mijn schouders. Ik voelde me al zelfverzekerd toen ik de tent in liep, maar de eerste liters bier zouden dat alleen maar versterken. De Hacker-Pschorr-tent was stampvol. De lucht hing zwaar van gerookte worst, zoet bier en parfum. Overal dirndls. Die klassieke jurken met de strakke bodices die borsten omhoog duwden, de rokken die bij elke beweging een glimp van dijen lieten zien. Blonde, brunette en roodharige vrouwen lachten, dansten en tilden hun kruiken omhoog. Ik liet mijn blik rustig over hen glijden. Een lange brunette met een diep decolleté lachte naar haar vriendinnen. Een stevige vrouw met een ronde kont zwaaide haar rok terwijl ze op tafel stond. Maar mijn ogen bleven hangen bij de kleinere, strakkere types. Die compacte lichaamjes die in die strakke topjes zaten alsof ze erin gegoten waren. Meer bier. De eerste Maß ging erin als water. De tweede ook. We stonden nog even samen bij een lange tafel, lachten, proostten en maakten plannen voor later. Maar zoals zo vaak op een feest als dit gebeurde het weer. Na een paar biertjes raakten we elkaar kwijt in de menigte. Iemand ging plassen, iemand anders werd meegesleurd door een groep Duitsers en voor ik het wist stond ik alleen tussen de zingende massa. Geen paniek. Het was ons vaker overkomen. We zouden elkaar later wel weer vinden, of niet. Voor nu genoot ik van het feestgedruis en alle mooie mensen om me heen. En opgaan in de mensenmassa en feesten met willekeurige mensen was wel aan mij besteed. Na de derde Maß voelde ik de warmte in mijn buik en het zelfvertrouwen dat erbij hoorde. Ik bewoog me eenvoudig door de menigte, lachte met vreemden en tikte met mijn kruik tegen die van een paar Duitsers die “Prost!” schreeuwden. Mijn lul begon zich al een beetje te roeren in de lederhosen. Niet hard, maar aanwezig. De strakke broek liet weinig ruimte. Toen zag ik haar. Ze stond bij een tafel wat verderop, een Maß in haar hand, lachend naar een paar vriendinnen. Blond. Echt blond, die lichte, bijna gouden kleur die in het licht van de tent leek te gloeien. Klein van stuk, misschien 1.60 of 1.62, maar haar houding was zelfverzekerd. De dirndl was diepblauw met witte ruches, de bodice zo strak dat haar borsten heerlijk vooruitstaken. Niet enorm, maar stevig, rond en duidelijk naar voren geduwd door het korset. De rok viel net boven de knie en daaronder strakke, gladde benen. Haar taille was smal, haar heupen zacht afgerond. Een klein, strak lichaam dat precies in die outfit paste alsof hij ervoor gemaakt was. Ze keek op en om zich heen. Onze blikken kruisten kort. Ik glimlachte en tilde mijn kruik een stukje op. Zij glimlachte terug, tilde haar Maß omhoog en keek even naar mijn lederhosen voordat ze weer naar haar vriendinnen keek. Ik liep er naartoe. Niet te snel, niet te gretig. Meer bier in mijn systeem gaf me die rustige, zelfverzekerde manier van bewegen. “Prost,” zei ik toen ik dichterbij was, mijn stem net boven het lawaai uit. Ze keek op, die blauwe ogen helder. “Prost. Nederlands?” “Ja, zo duidelijk? Robert.” Ik stak mijn hand uit. Haar hand was klein en warm, en ze hield hem een seconde langer vast dan nodig was. “Lena.” Haar accent was zacht, Zuid-Duits. “Je lederhosen zit goed, gelukkig ga je op in de cultuur.” Ik lachte. “Jouw dirndl ook. Heel… traditioneel.” Het viel me al op dat ze de strik links geknoopt had. Ze lachte mee, een laag en speels geluid. "Tuurlijk, een vrouw uit München moet de tradities in eer houden, toch?!" Haar vriendinnen knipoogden en schoven een beetje op zodat er plek was. We bleven praten. Over de tent, over hoeveel Maß we al hadden, over hoe warm het was. Elke keer dat ze lachte, bewoog haar borstkas en duwden die heerlijke bollingen nog wat meer tegen de stof. Ik kon de contouren van haar tepels bijna raden door het materiaal. Meer bier. We dronken samen. Haar hand bleef soms op mijn arm liggen als ze iets vertelde. Mijn hand gleed even over haar middel toen we om een groep mensen heen moesten. Ze leunde dichterbij. De avond was nog lang niet voorbij. De tent bleef stampvol, de muziek dreunde en de liters bleven rondgaan. Lena trok me mee de dansvloer op. Haar rok zwaaide met haar bewegingen mee en haar heupen bewogen tegen de mijne. Ik voelde de warmte van haar lichaam door de stof. Mijn handen rustten op haar taille en gleden lager, over de curve van haar kont. Ze keek me aan, haar lippen lichtjes van elkaar, en knikte bijna onmerkbaar. We zoenden voor het eerst midden in de tent. Haar lippen waren zacht, bierzoet, en ze opende ze meteen. Haar tong speelde met de mijne. Mijn handen klemden zich om haar taille en trokken haar dichterbij. Haar borsten drukten tegen me aan. Door de strakke bodice voelde ik hoe stevig ze waren. Mijn lul groeide al goed in de lederhosen. Ze merkte het. Haar heupen duwden speels tegen de bobbel. “Fuck,” fluisterde ze tegen mijn mond. “Dat voelt… lekker.” We bleven zoenen en werden allebei handtastelijker. Mijn hand gleed eerst over haar billen, daarna tijdens het zoenen onder haar jurkje over haar heerlijke billen. Ze begon al zachtjes in mijn mond te hijgen terwijl ze haar armen om mijn nek sloeg. Een van mijn handen verplaatste zich onder haar jurk, over haar dij en omhoog naar de rand van haar slipje. Ze was al nat. Haar vingers speelden met de knopen van mijn hemd en gleden over mijn borst. Mensen om ons heen lachten, klapten en dronken, maar niemand leek echt op ons te letten. Oktoberfest was vergevingsgezind. De tent was nog altijd vol en de avond nog in volle gang. Na nog een Maß, wat meer strelen en zoenen stelde Lena voor om even naar buiten te gaan. “Kom,” zei ze met een ondeugende glimlach, haar hand al in de mijne. “Ik wil je de kermis laten zien. Er zijn attracties die je… beter moet ervaren.” Haar blik gleed even naar beneden, naar de strakke lederhosen, en ze beet op haar onderlip. We liepen de tent uit de frisse avondlucht in. Buiten was het een andere wereld: felverlichte attracties, het gejoel van mensen, de geur van suikerspin en frituur. Lena trok me mee, haar kleine hand warm in de mijne, haar dirndl zwaaiend bij elke stap. Eerst het funhouse. Eerst een snelle lopende band omhoog voordat we het huis in konden. Veel voorgangers vielen hier, waarbij er al een aantal personeelsleden moesten bijspringen. Bij Lena niet; handig wipte ze op de band en liet zich omhoog slepen. Iets instabieler, maar met wat geluk bleef ik ook staan. Bovenaan wachtte ze me op en gaf me een kus voordat ze me mee naar binnen trok. We stapten een labyrint van spiegels, scheve vloeren en draaiende tunnels in. Het was halfdonker, vol lachende mensen, maar de smalle gangen dwongen ons dicht tegen elkaar. Lena gleed bijna uit op een bewegende loopband. Ik ving haar op met mijn handen stevig om haar taille. Ze lachte tegen mijn borst, draaide zich om en zoende me hard terwijl we probeerden overeind te blijven. Mijn handen gleden naar haar kont en knepen door de stof van de rok. In een spiegeltunnel waar we onszelf van alle kanten zagen, duwde ze haar kont tegen mijn lul en wreef er langzaam overheen. “Kijk hoe hard je al bent,” fluisterde ze, terwijl ze mijn hand naar haar borsten leidde. Door de bodice kneep ik in de stevige bollingen en voelde haar tepels hard worden. We bleven stilstaan in een donkere hoek tussen de spiegels. We zoenden diep, lieten onze tongen rond elkaar spelen terwijl mijn vingers onder haar rok gleden en over de natte stof van haar slipje streken. Ze hijgde zacht tegen mijn mond en duwde haar heupen wat harder tegen mijn hand. Haar hand streek over mijn lederhosen, op zoek naar mijn harde lul. Na een half minuutje kwamen mensen langs en maakte ze zich snel los, pakte mijn hand vast en zoog zachtjes op een van mijn vingers. Haar ogen straalde pure lust uit. Ze had zin in mij, ik had zin in haar en we wisten het allebei. Ze trok me aan mijn hand mee naar de uitgang, verder het terrein op tot we bij de volgende attractie aankwamen. De Geisterbahn. Een klassieke spooktrein in het donker met krappe karretjes voor twee personen. We kropen dicht tegen elkaar in de smalle bank. Zodra de deuren dichtgingen en we de duisternis in reden, klampte Lena zich aan me vast bij de eerste schreeuwende pop. Haar hand lag hoog op mijn dij en gleed over de binnenkant omhoog tot ze de harde lijn van mijn lul voelde. Ik draaide haar gezicht naar me toe en zoende haar diep terwijl skeletten en spoken voorbijflitsten. Mijn hand schoof weer onder haar rok, vingers tussen haar dijen, strelend over haar natte schaamlippen door het dunne stofje van haar string. Ze beet op mijn onderlip toen een plotselinge lichtflits ons verlichtte, maar in de duisternis die volgde liet ik mijn lederhosen ver genoeg openknopen om mijn lul half vrij te maken. Haar kleine hand wreef stevig omhoog en omlaag, nat van mijn voorvocht, terwijl ik haar clitoris masseerde. Elke schrikreactie liet haar hand harder knijpen of sneller wrijven. Tegen het einde van de rit was ze zo nat dat mijn vingers weekten in haar kutje en mijn lul zwaar in haar hand klopte. Ik was net op tijd met mijn lederhosen dicht te knopen voordat we weer uit het karretje moesten. We liepen rustig door en keken rond wat we nog konden doen. “Nog eentje doen?” vroeg Lena onschuldig. Haar arm in de mijne gehaakt, af en toe een zoen, maar vooral op zoek naar het reuzenrad. “Het uitzicht is zo mooi daarboven. Dat is mijn favoriet!” We stonden een minuut of twee in de rij en stapten met z’n tweeën in een cabine. De deur sloot en langzaam kwam het rad in beweging. Lena zat dicht tegen me aan en drukte haar lippen weer op de mijne. Onze tongen gleden in een geil spel om elkaar heen, terwijl mijn arm om haar heen geslagen was. Mijn vrije hand liet ik vanuit haar nek naar beneden glijden en hield deze op haar borst. Zodra we hoog genoeg waren met uitzicht over de hele Wiesn, keerde Lena zich half naar me toe. Ze maakte de knopen van mijn lederhosen open en trok mijn onderbroek mee omlaag om mijn lul bloot te leggen. Mijn pik stond al hard, kloppend, en mijn eikel glansde van voorvocht. Ze pakte hem stevig vast, streek omhoog en omlaag terwijl ze me diep zoende. Haar andere hand speelde met mijn ballen. Ik kreunde met mijn handen in haar blonde haren en onder haar dirndl. Ik schoof haar slipje opzij, streek over haar natte schaamlippen en liet een vinger er tussen glijden. Ze was doorweekt. Terwijl het rad langzaam draaide, trok ze me af. Stevig en nat van voorvocht, terwijl ik haar clitoris masseerde. Haar kreunen in mijn mond werden wat hoger en onregelmatiger. Ik zag haar ogen even snel wegdraaien waarbij haar lichaam kort ongecontroleerd trilde. Ze kwam zacht klaar, haar kutje samentrekkend om mijn vingers. Ik was ook dichtbij, maar ze stopte net op tijd. Ze glimlachte geil en likte haar met voorvocht besmeurde vingers af. “Mooi uitzicht toch?” vroeg ze lief, terwijl ze op mijn schoot kwam zitten om me weer te tongzoenen. Toen ze weer van me af gleed en tegenover me plaatsnam, knikte ze even richting mijn openstaande lederhosen en seinde dat we bijna weer beneden waren. We daalden verder af, allebei ademend, opgewonden tot het bot, en stapten weer uit het reuzenrad. Hand in hand liepen we geil en vol lust terug richting de tent. De tent was nog altijd vol. De avond was nog lang niet voorbij, maar de spanning tussen ons was onhoudbaar geworden. We dronken nog één Maß samen, zoenden openlijk en lieten onze handen over elkaars lichamen glijden. Haar vriendinnen waren allang verdwenen, die van mij waren ook nergens te bekennen. Lena keek me aan met die blauwe, geile ogen. “Kom mee naar mijn huis,” zei ze tussen onze zoenen door. “Twintig minuten lopen. Ik heb zin in je.” Ze trok me dicht tegen zich aan, gaf me nog een kus, pakte mijn hand vast en trok me weer mee door de menigte. De nachtlucht werd koeler toen we wegliepen van de drukte. We liepen door de straten van München, hand in hand, soms even stilstaand om te zoenen. Zo ook tegen een muur in een steegje. Ze drukte me met mijn rug tegen de muur. Haar hand ging naar de voorkant van mijn lederhosen en streek over de harde lijn van mijn lul. Ik kreunde in haar mond. Mijn handen pakten haar borsten door de stof, knepen zacht en voelden hoe haar tepels hard waren. Ze draaide zich om en kwam met haar rug even tegen me aan staan. Mijn handen gleden soepel over haar lichaam, met mijn lippen in haar hals. Ze schuurde met haar billen tegen mijn harde paal, die alweer op flinke sterkte was. Ze pakte mijn hand, keek me lachend aan en gaf me een knipoog. We liepen weer een stukje verder. Op een rustiger stuk, onder een boom, ging ze op haar knieën. Niet lang, maar lang genoeg. Ze maakte de knopen van de lederhosen open, trok mijn onderbroek omlaag en nam mijn harde lul in haar hand. Warm, stevig en met mijn eikel nog glanzend van voorvocht. Ze likte eroverheen, zoog de kop in haar mond en liet haar tong eromheen dansen. Een paar keer diep, nat en gulzig. Ik hield haar blonde haren vast en kreunde zacht. Toen stond ze weer op, kuste me met de smaak van mijn eigen lul op haar lippen, nam me bij de hand en trok me verder door München. Bij haar huis, een klein appartement achter een tuin, gingen we niet meteen naar binnen. Achterom, in de schaduw van de schutting, trok ze me dichterbij. We zoenden hard. Haar handen maakten de lederhosen weer verder open. Mijn lul sprong vrij, al hard en kloppend. Ze ging weer op haar knieën, maar dit keer langer. Haar mond gleed soepel om mijn stijve paal heen en voelde warm en gretig. Ze zoog me diep en speelde ondeugend met mijn ballen. Ik hield haar hoofd vast en duwde voorzichtig dieper. Ze kreunde om mijn lul heen; het geluid trilde door mijn lichaam en haar ogen werden wat waterig. Toen trok ze me omlaag. We bleven half gekleed. Haar dirndl wat omhooggeschoven en haar slipje opzij. Ik voelde hoe nat ze was. Glad, warm en klaar. Ze klom bovenop me terwijl ik tegen de schutting aan zat. Ik duwde mijn eikel tussen haar schaamlippen, wreef heen en weer en schoof in haar. Haar kutje was strak, warm en kleefde om me heen alsof ze me wilde vasthouden. Ze kreunde geil terwijl ze rustig op en neer wipte. Ze nam me daar tegen de schutting, mijn lederhosen nog half om mijn dijen, haar dirndl opgeschoven. Haar borsten deinden in de strakke top. Elke stoot liet haar zacht kreunen. Ze nam mijn handen en drukte die op haar borsten terwijl ze me geil aankeek. Ik voelde hoe ze samenkneep, hoe nat ze werd. Ik voelde hoe ze met een paar onregelmatige, hoge kreuntjes klaarkwam op mijn paal. Nog net op tijd trok ik me terug uit haar en spoot mijn sperma over haar dijen en de binnenkant van haar rok. Ze gaf me een diepe kus en vroeg daarna fluisterend in mijn oor: “Binnen ronde twee?” Lena klom van me af en stak haar hand weer uit. Ze hielp me omhoog en trok me direct mee, nog zonder ons fatsoenlijk aan te kleden. Eenmaal binnen was het anders. De deur viel achter ons dicht. Het licht ging aan. Lena stond voor me, zwaarder ademend, haar dirndl nog aan maar al half open. Ze glimlachte met die speelse, geile lach. In het licht zag ze er nog mooier uit. “Kleed me uit,” zei ze. Ik deed het langzaam. De rits van de dirndl ging los en zakte zachtjes af. De knopen van de bodice, één voor één. Haar borsten vielen vrij, heerlijk stevig en rond met roze tepels die hard stonden. Ik zoog eraan, likte en kneep speels. Haar rok gleed naar beneden, bijna tegelijk met haar slipje. Ze stond nu naakt voor me: klein, strak en met die heerlijke bocht van taille naar heup. Een gladgeschoren kut die nog glinsterde van eerder, met nog wat zaadresten eromheen. Ik deed mijn lederhosen en hemd uit. Mijn lul stond weer hard en glanzend van haar speeksel en sap. Ze keek ernaar, likte haar lippen, stapte geil op me af en drukte me verder de kamer in. We belandden op de bank. Ik legde haar op haar rug, spreidde haar benen wijd en begon haar te beffen. Haar smaak was zowel zoet als licht zout, muskusachtig. Ik liet mijn tong langzaam over haar schaamlippen glijden, van onder naar boven, en zoog zachtjes aan haar clitoris. Ze kreunde meteen, met haar heupen die direct omhoogkwamen. Ik stak mijn tong dieper, proefde hoe nat ze al was en liet twee vingers langzaam in haar glijden. Haar binnenste was heet en strak. Ik ging op zoek naar haar G-spot terwijl ik bleef likken. Haar handen grepen stevig in mijn haar. “Ja… daar… precies daar… harder…” Haar ademhaling werd kort en schokkerig. Ik zoog steviger aan haar clitoris. Mijn vingers begonnen sneller te bewegen en ik voelde hoe ze begon te trillen. Ze kwam hard klaar, met haar dijen die om mijn hoofd klemden en een natte golf die over mijn mond en kin stroomde. Ik bleef likken tot ze smekend mijn naam fluisterde en me omhoogtrok. Ze duwde me achterover op de bank, ging op haar knieën tussen mijn gespreide benen en nam mijn lul in beide handen. Ze keek ernaar, likte langzaam van de basis naar de eikel en zoog me in haar mond. Haar tong draaide eromheen en speelde met de opening terwijl ze langzaam dieper ging. Ik voelde de warmte van haar keel toen ze me bijna helemaal innam. Speeksel droop uit haar mondhoeken over mijn schacht. Ze zoog met een ritme, haar hand die meehielp en haar andere hand die mijn ballen streelde en zachtjes kneep. Ik hield haar blonde haren vast en duwde haar voorzichtig dieper. Ze kreunde toen ze me helemaal in haar keel nam en slikte. Tranen glinsterden in haar ogen, maar ze bleef doorgaan. Gulzig en nat, met diepe, slurpende geluiden. Toen ze me uit haar mond liet glijden, hing er een dikke sliert speeksel tussen haar onderlip en mijn eikel. Ze glimlachte geil en likte die met oogcontact op. We verhuisden naar de slaapkamer. Het bed was groot en zacht. Ik legde haar op haar rug, duwde haar knieën naar haar borst en schoof langzaam in haar. Haar kutje omklemde me strak, warm en nat. Ik bleef even stil en diep in haar en voelde haar knijpen om mijn lul. Toen begon ik te bewegen. Eerst langzame, diepe stoten waarbij ik bijna helemaal terugging en dan hard naar binnen duwde. Haar borsten deinden mee op mijn ritme. Haar tepels stonden hard naar voren. Ze kermde bij elke stoot en trok me bij mijn billen naar haar toe. “Robert… fuck… zo diep… ja…” Ik versnelde mijn tempo. Mijn heupen sloegen hard tegen de hare en het natte geluid van huid op huid vulde de kamer. Haar benen legde ik over mijn schouders. Ze was heerlijk flexibel. Ik neukte haar dieper, keek naar haar gezicht terwijl haar mond openviel van genot en haar ogen naar achteren rolden. Ze kwam opnieuw, haar kutje dat ritmisch om me heen kneep en een warme vloed die over mijn ballen liep. Ik draaide haar om zonder uit haar te glijden. Op handen en knieën met haar kont omhoog. Ik greep haar heupen en begon opnieuw te stoten, alleen wat harder dit keer. Haar kont deinde bij elke klap en haar ronde wangen trilden. Ik gaf haar een paar stevige tikken; rood werd zichtbaar op haar bleke huid. Ze duwde terug, vroeg om meer en keek gewillig over haar schouder. “Harder… neuk me harder…” Ik deed wat ze vroeg en zorgde voor diepe, harde stoten die haar lichaam vooruitduwden. Mijn hand greep in haar blonde haren en trok haar hoofd licht achterover. Mijn andere hand hield haar stevig bij haar heup vast terwijl ik hard en diep in haar stootte. Ze ondersteunde zichzelf met een hand, terwijl haar rechterhand vlot over haar clitoris gleed. Ze schreeuwde toen ze kwam en liet haar lichaam hevig trillen. Haar strakke kutje kneep hard en pulserend, waardoor ik sneller dan gewild richting orgasme ging. Het hield net op tijd op, waardoor ik even op adem kon komen terwijl ik diep in haar zat. Lena liet zich even voorovervallen, waarbij ik rustig uit haar gleed. Ze herpakte zich echter snel en stond op om langzaam op me te komen zitten. Ze liet me centimeter voor centimeter in haar glijden tot ze helemaal zat en mijn harde lul diep in haar kutje zat. Met haar handen op mijn borst begon ze te bewegen. Eerst langzame rondjes, daarna op en neer. Haar kleine borsten deinden voor mijn gezicht. Nadat we weer even geil hadden zitten zoenen, gooide ze haar hoofd achterover terwijl ze op en neer bleef wippen. Ik zoog aan haar tepels en beet er zacht in terwijl ze sneller ging. Haar kutje was zo nat dat het bij elke beweging sopte. Mijn kruis was helemaal nat en glibberig, maar daar gaf ik niks om. Ze leunde voorover, kuste me weer diep en neukte me harder. Haar heupen gingen in een snelle, rollende beweging terwijl haar tong vluchtig meebewoog rond de mijne. Niet alleen de seks was geil en nat, ook haar tongzoen werd losser en minder gecontroleerd. Ik greep haar kont, hielp haar en duwde omhoog bij elke neergaande beweging. Ze begon weer zachtjes te trillen, maar wist zich in te houden. Na nog een geile tongzoen gleed ze van me af en draaide zich om. Lena zakte weer naar beneden en kwam in reverse cowgirl bovenop me zitten. Haar kont naar me toe, handen op mijn dijen en haar rug tegen me aan. Ik probeerde toe te kijken en zag af en toe hoe mijn glanzende lul in en uit haar gleed en hoe haar schaamlippen zich heerlijk om me heen sloten. Ik greep haar heupen en neukte hard omhoog, terwijl zij zich naar beneden duwde. Het uitzicht was perfect: haar smalle taille, haar strakke kont, maar vooral mijn paal diep in en uit haar. Ze keek af en toe over haar schouder met haar mond open en haar ogen halfdicht van genot. Mijn handen verplaatsten zich van haar heupen naar haar borsten en speelden met haar tepels. Ik liet een hand hier rusten en met de andere gleed ik om haar hals heen. Ze bleef even roerloos op me zitten en leunde rustig naar achteren tegen me aan. “Fuck, dit is zo lekker. Je weet de plekjes wel te vinden, Robert,” kreunde ze terwijl ze haar hoofd draaide, de mijne vastpakte en me weer zoende. Ze trok me mee naar voren. Zij weer op handen en knieën en ik achter haar. Ze ging voorover liggen, drukte haar billen omhoog en haar rug hol terwijl ze omkeek. “Neuk me in mijn kont,” fluisterde ze. “Ik wil je daar voelen.” Ik maakte mijn vinger goed nat met eerst haar kutsappen en daarna veel speeksel. Mijn duim streelde over haar anus en drukte zacht naar binnen. Een kort moment liet ik Lena wennen aan het gevoel. Ik kromde mijn duim en haakte deze vast terwijl ik meer druk gaf. Ze kreunde en duwde terug. Mijn duim gleed terug en ik liet mijn middelvinger naar binnen glijden. Daarna al snel mijn wijsvinger ernaast. Ik rekte haar voorzichtig en wreef meer speeksel erin. Haar kreunen werd steeds geiler. Haar blik achterover maakte dat ik mijn lul eerst nog een keer in haar kletsnatte kutje liet glijden. Toen plaatste ik mijn eikel tegen haar strakke kontje en duwde deze langzaam naar binnen. De weerstand was stevig en warm, maar ook uitnodigend. Ze ademde diep, ontspande en ik gleed in haar. Eerst alleen mijn eikel, maar daarna steeds meer, tot ik er helemaal in zat. Haar anus omklemde me als een hete, strakke ring. Ik bleef even stil, liet haar wennen en streelde over haar rug en clitoris. Toen begon ik te bewegen met langzame, diepe stoten. Ze kermde terwijl haar hand tussen haar eigen benen speelde. “Ja… zo… dieper… je vult me zo lekker...” Ik versnelde geleidelijk en greep haar bij haar heupen. Ik neukte haar kont voor een aantal minuten met stevige, ritmische stoten. Ze kreunde met een heerlijk geluid en het gevoel was overweldigend. Ze voelde zo strak en zo warm. Ik voelde haar vingers tegen mijn ballen aantikken terwijl ze op stevig tempo over haar clitoris heen gleed. Ze kwam met mijn lul diep in haar anus en liet haar lichaam weer hevig trillen. De samentrekkingen om mijn schacht heen duwden mij ook over de rand. Hoe ik het zo lang heb volgehouden weet ik niet, maar met een hevige gevoeligheid en harde ontlading spoot ik mijn sperma diep in haar kontje terwijl haar kringspier bleef aanspannen en ontspannen. We rustten even uit. We liepen samen naar de keuken om wat te drinken te pakken en eindigden allebei naakt met een glas wijn in de hand. We lachten wat over hoe de avond al was gegaan en stonden dicht bij elkaar. Terwijl ze tegen het keukenblad aanleunde, stond ik dicht tegen haar aan. We zoenden wat, dronken van ons wijntje en zoenden opnieuw. Ik zette mijn glas neer en trok haar weer stevig tegen me aan, met mijn hand in haar nek en de andere op haar bil. We wisten allebei dat er nog wel een, misschien meerdere ronden in zouden zitten. Ik draaide haar om, zodat ze met haar rug tegen mijn borst stond. Mijn handen gleden over haar buik, omhoog naar haar borsten en knepen zacht in haar tepels terwijl ik mijn halfstijve lul tussen haar billen liet glijden. Ze leunde achterover tegen me aan met haar hoofd op mijn schouder en ademde langzaam uit toen ik een hand lager liet zakken. Mijn vingers vonden haar nog natte spleet, strelend en spelend zonder haast. We bleven zo staan in de keuken, alleen het zachte geluid van onze ademhaling en het af en toe klinkende glas wijn dat ze nog vasthield. Ik zoende haar nek, beet zacht in haar oorlel en fluisterde hoe goed ze voelde. Ze duwde haar kont iets steviger tegen me aan en gleed op en neer. De spanning bouwde weer op, langzaam dit keer, zonder de wildheid van eerder. Toch groeide mijn lul weer naar oorlogssterkte daar tussen haar billen. Toen Lena genoeg had van het wachten, zette ze haar glas neer en draaide zich om. Ze pakte me vast, drukte haar lippen weer op de mijne en liet haar tong een vurige zoen glijden. Na een kleine pets op mijn billen pakte ze mijn hand en trok me weer terug naar de slaapkamer. Lena rolde op haar rug en trok haar knieën helemaal naar haar borst. Haar enkels had ze zo goed als naar haar oren liggen, waardoor haar kutje helemaal open lag. Ze keek me uitdagend aan. “Kom weer in mijn kutje. Zo diep als je kunt.” Ik ging voor haar op mijn knieën zitten, duwde mijn eikel tegen haar natte opening en schoof er hard in. In deze positie kon ik nog dieper dan eerder. Elke stoot liet haar kreunen en af en toe zag ik haar ogen wegdraaien. Ik neukte haar hard en diep met mijn handen op de achterkant van haar dijen. Haar lichaam stond helemaal voor me open. Haar borsten deinden wild op en neer en uit haar mond kwamen heerlijk geile kreuntjes. Ze hield het lang vol in deze positie en bleef me aansporen met halfgesmoorde klanken, tot ze uiteindelijk zelf met een diepe zucht over de rand ging. Ik bleef stug doorgaan, door haar orgasme heen, tot ze haar benen naar beneden liet vallen en me uit haar duwde. Haar ogen en haren zagen er wild en geil uit, met wat zweetdruppeltjes op haar voorhoofd, maar vooral vol lust verplaatste ze zich naar de rand van het bed. Ze ging op haar rug liggen, met haar heupen net over de rand. Ik ging naast het bed staan en tilde haar benen omhoog. Ik hield haar benen open en neukte haar staand. De hoek was perfect. Ik raakte elke keer die diepe plek. Haar handen grepen in de lakens en haar hoofd viel achterover. Ik voelde hoe ze opnieuw natter werd, hoe haar binnenste om me heen trilde en zachtjes haar kutsappen uit haar vloeide. Ik neukte haar stevig door, zonder dat ze nog een keer kwam, en trok me terug. Ik draaide haar om, tilde haar heupen omhoog en neukte haar weer van achteren terwijl zij met haar bovenlichaam op het bed lag. De vurige passie van de hele avond en de diepe, harde stoten volgden elkaar feilloos op. Mijn ballen kletsten hard tegen haar clitoris terwijl mijn handen stevig in haar billen knepen en deze uit elkaar trokken. Ze schreeuwde in het matras en liet het allemaal gebeuren. Bijna onderdanig neukte ik Lena op haar bed; dit is waar we allebei naar verlangden. Na een aantal minuten trok ik haar naar me toe, tilde ik haar op en drukte ik Lena met haar rug tegen de muur. Haar benen om mijn heupen en haar armen om mijn nek. Ik neukte haar staand, omhoog, hard, terwijl zij zich vastklemde. Haar borsten drukten tegen mijn borst en haar mond zocht de mijne. We zoenden stevig en nat terwijl ik haar neukte. Onze adem en gekreun mengden zich vlekkeloos. Ze kraste met haar nagels zachtjes over mijn rug, alsof ze kort haar territorium wilde afbakenen. Ik deed dat met diepe stoten, recht omhoog haar drijfnatte kutje in. Langzaam trokken mijn krachten weg, ondanks dat ik dit veel langer wilde volhouden. Ik gooide haar terug op haar bed en rolde haar op haar zij. Achterlangs trok ik een been over mijn heup en neukte haar in een diepe spooning-positie. Mijn hand om haar heen met mijn vingers op haar clitoris en mijn mond en tong in haar nek. Langzaam, diep, intiem. Alle intieme plekken van haar lichaam werden gestreeld, ofwel door mij of door haarzelf. We bewogen samen met onze adem gesynchroniseerd, tot ik voelde dat ik het echt niet langer vol ging houden. Na een laatste korte eindsprint kwam ik diep, ongecontroleerd en wild in Lena klaar. Ze draaide haar hoofd, pakte me vast en zoende me vol passie terwijl mijn lul zachter werd en uiteindelijk uit haar gleed. We bleven zo liggen, verbonden, zwetend en na hijgend van genot. Haar lichaam warm en zacht tegen de mijne en mijn arm nog om haar heen. Mijn hand rustte op haar borst. De geur van seks hing zwaar in de kamer, vermengd met de zoete restanten van bier en haar parfum. Lena zuchtte tevreden, nestelde zich dichter tegen me aan en streelde langzaam over mijn onderarm. Er waren geen woorden meer nodig. De vermoeidheid na de lange avond, de liters bier en de urenlange geilheid overviel ons allebei. Binnen een paar minuten zakten we weg, onze lichamen nog half verstrengeld, haar kont tegen mijn lul, mijn gezicht in haar blonde haar. Heerlijk, diep en tevreden viel ik zo in slaap. Midden in de nacht werd ik half wakker van een langzame, speelse beweging. Lena wreef met haar kont tegen mijn halfslappe lul. Haar heupen die zacht heen en weer gingen. Haar hand zocht achterom, greep me vast en wreef steviger tot ik hard werd tegen haar warme huid. “Mmm… Robert…” fluisterde ze slaperig, stem hees van de slaap. Ik duwde haar bovenste been omhoog, vond haar nog steeds vochtige opening en gleed er langzaam in. Een vluggertje in het donker. Geen haast, geen wilde stoten, alleen diepe, trage bewegingen terwijl we half in slaap bleven. Haar hand bleef op mijn heup en stuurde het ritme. Ik voelde hoe ze nat werd om me heen, hoe haar ademhaling sneller ging. Na een paar minuten kwam ze zacht klaar met een trillende zucht in het kussen. Dat was ook genoeg om mij over de rand te duwen. Ik spoot diep in haar, bleef in haar liggen en zakte meteen weer weg, haar lichaam warm en vol tegen de mijne. Toen het ochtendlicht door de gordijnen sloop, werd ik wakker van Lena’s mond op mijn borst. Haar tong die langzaam over mijn tepel speelde. Haar hand lag al om mijn ochtenderectie. Ze keek op met die blauwe, nog slaperige maar geile ogen en glimlachte. “Guten Morgen…” fluisterde ze, en rolde op haar rug, haar benen spreidend. Ik ging bovenop haar liggen, kuste haar langzaam en diep en gleed opnieuw in haar. Dit keer soft en intiem, kijkend in elkaars ogen. Haar benen om mijn middel en haar handen over mijn rug. We namen de tijd. Lange, diepe stoten, zachte kussen, intieme zoenen, zachte kreuntjes. Haar kut was warm en glad van de nacht. Ze kwam weer eerst, met een lange, trillende zucht. Ze liet me nog niet klaarkomen, maar sleepte me mee naar de badkamer. De douche was klein en al gauw stroomde warm water over onze lichamen. Lena zakte meteen op haar knieën, nam mijn nog nagenoeg harde lul in haar mond en zoog me weer stevig tot ik volledig hard was. Het water liep over haar blonde haren, over haar borsten, over mijn ballen. Ik trok haar overeind, tilde een been op tegen de tegelwand en schoof in haar terwijl het water over ons heen spoelde. Weer wat harder dit keer, met het water over onze huid. Met natte klappen en haar rug tegen de koude tegels ontving ze me gewillig. Haar borsten deinden heerlijk mee, haar tepels hard van de warmte en de opwinding. Ik neukte haar zo diep met mijn hand op haar kont en mijn mond op haar nek. Lena kwam weer hard klaar, schreeuwend tegen het geluid van het water, haar kutje dat krampachtig om me heen kneep. Ik hield het ook niet lang meer vol en waarschuwde haar snel, waarna ze direct door haar knieën zakte en mijn lul stevig begon te pijpen. Haar warme mond nam me gulzig in en liet haar tong over mijn eikel spelen terwijl ze gestaag bleef pijpen. Het water stroomde over haar blonde haren en mijn buik. Binnen een paar seconden kwam ik hard klaar. Een aantal dikke stralen spoten diep in haar keel. Ze bleef geconcentreerd zuigen tot de laatste druppel mijn lul had verlaten, keek trots omhoog met haar blauwe ogen en likte haar lippen schoon. We bleven nog even onder de straal staan. Kussend, lachend en onze handen die over elkaars natte huid gleden. Uiteindelijk droogden we ons af, kropen terug onder de dekens en bleven liggen tot de zon hoger stond. We leerden elkaar beter kennen, op een manier die gisteren en vannacht niet was gelukt. Inmiddels hadden we elkaar toegevoegd op sociaal media en elkaars nummer opgeslagen. Wellicht dat we elkaar nog wel eens zouden willen opzoeken. Mijn lederhosen en haar dirndl lagen nog ergens verloren op de grond. Buiten was München allang weer wakker, maar binnen was het stil, warm en vervuld van de geur van seks en schoon water. Even had ik een kort moment om terug te kijken naar wat er was gebeurd. Daar lag ik, in München na het Oktoberfest, met een ontzettend knappe en geile Duitse meid genaamd Lena tegen me aan, en wist dat dit een once-in-a-lifetime-ervaring zou zijn. Of zou er toch nog meer in zitten? De tijd zal het leren, vrees ik. Inmiddels had ik wel al een aantal appjes en belletjes van vrienden gemist, maar dat was het wel waard.

1 November 2026

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His message came in the morning, three words, “Tonight. Maybe six.” I read it standing in the kitchen and answered the way I always do, light and easy, as if my pulse hadn’t just jumped, “Sounds good. See you then xx” We’ve been doing this dance for years. It was never a lack of wanting, only bad timing. I’d be free when he wasn’t, and he’d be free when I wasn’t, and somewhere in between we’d try to find a place that was private and discreet, a window of time that belonged to no one else. Weeks slid by like that. The wanting never went anywhere. It waited, persistent and stubborn, until our calendars finally cooperated, and then it was as if no time had passed. In the meantime, I couldn’t help myself. I’d walk into a restaurant and, while everyone else read the menu, I’d be wondering about the corridor to the restrooms, whether the lock on that door was any good. I’d look at a hotel lobby and think about the elevator, just how busy was it? A department store dressing room, a quiet hallway behind a function room, any bathroom with a proper door and soft lighting. I once sat in my own tiny car in a parking garage and seriously assessed the backseat. I was not being practical. I was being a woman who couldn’t stop thinking about him, and who found that every ordinary place in the world had become a possibility. Some things are worth the effort of finding a gap, and he is one of them. By noon I’d stopped being productive. I ran a bath and stayed in until the water went cool, thinking about his hands and the slow way he says my name. I told myself I was relaxing. I was not relaxing. I tried on three outfits and chose the green dress, the one that matches my eyes. I imagine him taking it off. At four I checked my phone. At ten past, I checked it again. At half past I walked through the apartment straightening things that were already straight and caught myself in the mirror, flushed and bright-eyed and restless as a cat before a storm. Years in, and I still pace the floor like a girl. But I know how it will go, because it always goes the same way. I’ve planned a hundred things: what I’ll say, how I’ll stand, how I’ll make him wait. I’ve never managed one. He walks through the door and the noise in me stops, as if someone has turned a dial. I soften. I go quiet and warm and unhurried, and the whole day of waiting turns out to have been worth it. At five-forty I lit the lamps. At five-fifty I stood by the window, pretending I wasn’t watching the street. Then, at six, a knock at the door. I had a plan for this part. I’d practiced it. I’d open the door slowly, lean one shoulder against the frame, and give him a long, unhurried look that said I’d barely the time. Instead I yanked the door open and poked my head around it, beaming, giddy, and entirely unable to arrange my face into anything but delight. “There she is,” he said. He stood in the doorway in the charcoal suit, jacket hanging open over the white shirt, and everything in me that had been pulling tight all day let go at once. I’d planned to pull him inside and tear the shirt off him. I’d imagined it for hours. But the second I saw him, the urgency washed away, and what was left was warm and still and unhurried. “Here I am,” I said, and stepped back to let him in. Then I just stood there and looked. He shrugged out of the jacket and hung it over the back of the chair, the way he always does, smoothing the shoulders once with his hand. I stepped close and put my fingers on the top button of his shirt. When I get this close, I just want to rip it open in seconds, buttons popping everywhere. I never do. His hands found me as I started, one settling at the curve of my waist, the other moving slowly up my back, then into my hair, then down along my arm, as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch me first. His thumb traced the line of my collarbone. Every time my fingers slowed, his touch slowed with them. Every time I lost my place, he drew me back with a brush of his knuckles along my jaw. The first button gave way, and I watched the skin beneath the collar appear, warm against the white. The second showed me the hollow of his throat, and I leaned in and breathed him in: oud and cloves and something that is only him, the way I once described him to a friend. His hand tightened at my hip. By the third button there was a glimpse of his chest, broad and solid. I stopped there, because I love this part. “You’re taking your time,” he murmured, his mouth near my ear. “I’m allowed,” I said. “I’ve been waiting all day.” I took the next button, then the next. His shirt fell open a little more each time, and his hands kept moving over me, my shoulders, the small of my back, the side of my neck, unhurried and certain. I let my eyes follow my fingers down the centre of him, over the rise and fall of his chest, the plane of his stomach, the place where the shirt disappeared into his trousers. I slid my palms inside the open shirt and felt the heat of him, the strength under the skin, and heard the breath he let out slowly. When I reached the last button I pulled the shirt free of his trousers, and the rest of him was there. I pushed the cotton back over his broad shoulders and down his arms, and he let it fall. For a moment I just stood and looked at all of him. I pressed my palm flat to his chest and felt his heart beneath it. “Better?” he asked, his hand cradling my face. “Almost,” I said. “Your turn.” He found the zipper of the green dress and drew it down my spine one inch at a time, his knuckles following the path of the zip, and the dress fell away. He looked at me the way he always does, hungry and reverent at once, and I forgot what I’d been worried about. “Come here,” he said, and his voice had dropped into the register that I feel in my ribs. He took my hand and led me to the bed, and when I lay back, he followed, settling over me, his arms braced either side of my head. I’ll never get over that, being swallowed up by the solid warmth of him. He stayed above me for a moment, just looking, and then his mouth found my throat. He kissed down slowly, along my collarbone, over my shoulder, and I could feel the scrape of his beard, the contrast of rough and soft that undoes me every time. He took his time with my breasts, as he always does, as if he’d been thinking about them all day. His hands were broad and warm and certain, and his mouth followed, patient and attentive, until I arched into him. He smiled against my skin, because he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. His mouth kept moving down, over my stomach and the curve of my hip. He built me up slowly and held me at the edge, again and again, until I was shaking and begging and laughing at the same time. When I finally broke, he stayed with me, gentle and unrelenting, until I was boneless and breathless against the pillows. “My turn,” I said, once I could speak. I pushed him onto his back, I had spent all day impatient, and now I had him exactly where I wanted him, all that strength lying still beneath my hands. I let myself look, and touch, and taste, mapping him the way I always do, as if I might find something new. His breath turned ragged. His hand came to my hair, tender and a little unsteady. I climbed over him and sank down onto him slowly, watching his face, the way his eyes closed and his jaw tightened and his hands clamped on my hips. I moved slowly at first, savoring every inch of it, then not slowly at all, and he groaned my name and told me how beautiful I was, how long he had thought about this. I felt powerful and adored and completely undone all at once. When I finally lifted my head, the light had changed. “We have twenty minutes, we have to be quick” “What does quick mean?” I said. He laughed, and I felt it under my cheek. Then he caught my chin and tilted my face up to his. “Still sure?” he asked. “Completely,” I said. We had set the guidelines together weeks before, in the dark, in pieces, the way you approach something you’re afraid to say you want. One night, one couple. Anyone could stop it at any moment, and I wanted a front row seat. We’d met them once for a drink. Sienna was warm and confident and held eye contact a little longer than necessary. Daniel was quieter, with an easy smile and a hand that never left the small of her back. They’d done this before, which made it easier. When the second knock came, Mike was buttoning his shirt back up, and I was already in the armchair by the window, legs crossed, in the green dress I’d put back on, looking calmer than I felt. I watched him for one more second, collar, cuffs, the last button, and he caught me at it and smiled. “Ready?” he asked. “Absolutely,” I said. “I’m staying right here.” Excitedly wiggling my hips into the chair. They came in a little nervous and a little thrilled, and we talked for a few minutes while the room found its balance. Sienna laughed too loudly at something Mike said and then laughed at herself for it. Daniel stood beside her, steady, his hand at her back. Then Mike looked at me, not at them. “Tell me what you want,” he said. “Slowly,” I said. When he kissed her, my stomach dropped. It was the dizzy thrill of seeing him through other people’s eyes, how much he fills a room, how carefully he holds a woman as if she might break and then makes her glad she won’t. Daniel stood close behind her, his mouth at her shoulder. Sienna’s fingers found the top button of his shirt, and I leaned forward in the chair. I know that sight. I’ve stood in that spot. She undid the first, then the second, and the skin beneath his collar appeared, and I felt the strangest mix of ownership and generosity. She was getting the glimpse, and I was getting to watch her get it. When she reached for the next button too quickly, I said, “Take your time,” and Mike’s eyes flicked to me with a spark, knowing how much I loved this part. Mike took Sienna’s hand and led her to the bed, Daniel a step behind with his palm at her back. He sat her on the edge of the mattress and knelt in front of her, and Daniel eased in beside her and took her mouth in a deep, unhurried kiss while Mike drew the dress from her body, kissing every inch of skin as it appeared. By the time she was bare between them, her breathing had gone ragged. “Tell me what you like,” Mike said, his voice low and warm, and she laughed shakily and said, “All of it. Please.” “Good answer,” Daniel murmured, and tilted her face back to his. I watched Mike’s mouth travel the way it travels on me. Her throat. Her collarbone. The soft swell of her breasts, where he took his time, his tongue circling and flicking until her nipples were tight and wet and her back arched off the sheets. He closed his mouth around one and sucked slowly while his hand cupped the other, thumb dragging across it, and she cried out, her fingers sliding over his head and holding on. Daniel’s hand slipped between her thighs and found her slick and ready. Mike kissed down her stomach, and she lifted her hips toward his mouth before he’d even reached her. He settled between her thighs, pushed them wide and looked up at her. “Sienna. Look at me.” She did. And he put his mouth on her. I know exactly what that is. I know the slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue, the way he finds the one place and stays there, patient and merciless, the beard rough against the inside of the thigh. I watched her learn it. She moaned, long and broken, her hips rolling up against his mouth, and Mike gripped her thighs and held her open, tongue flat and slow, then fast and focused, then slow again, taking her to the edge and keeping her there. Daniel kissed her neck and whispered filthy, tender things in her ear, that’s it, take it, you’re so beautiful when you come, and she was shaking, begging, her breath breaking apart. I couldn’t keep my hands still. I slid one up my thigh under the green dress and found myself drenched, and I stroked slowly, two fingers, matching the rhythm of his tongue. I couldn’t take my eyes off his shoulders, the flex of his back, the way his whole body bent to the work. I’d never seen him from here. He looked like worship. He looked like a man who would do this for hours, and I knew he could. Somewhere in the middle of it his eyes found mine. He held my gaze, and I watched him smile against her, slow and knowing, before he pushed two fingers inside her, curled them, found the spot, and sucked her clit into his mouth. Sienna came apart. She shouted, her whole body bowing off the bed, thighs clamped around his head as the orgasm tore through her in long, rolling waves. He didn’t stop. He gentled his tongue and slowed his fingers and rode her through every pulse until she was sobbing, laughing, wrecked. I came watching it, my fingers working hard against my clit, my free hand clenched on the arm of the chair, my mouth open on a sound I barely managed to swallow. The orgasm hit me from the inside out, hot and sudden, and Mike’s eyes never left my face. He saw all of it, and his smile was slow, wicked and entirely mine. “Again,” Sienna panted, before anyone else could say it. “Oh God, please, again.” Daniel laughed, thrilled, and kissed her until she was breathless. Mike moved up her body, kissing her stomach, her ribs, her breasts, while Daniel eased aside to make room. Sienna reached down, wrapped her hand around him, and groaned at the size of him. “Ready?” he asked her. “Please,” she said. “Please, yes.” He pushed into her slowly, and I watched her face change, lips parting, eyes fluttering shut, a high, stunned moan. “Oh, fuck, he’s so big,” she gasped, and Daniel said, “I know, baby, I know. Just breathe and take him.” Mike stayed still once he was seated deep in her, letting her adjust, one hand stroking her hair back from her face. Then he began to move, long, deep and unhurried, with a steady, controlled power that made the whole bed shift. Sienna wrapped her legs around him and dragged him closer, nails raking his back. Daniel kissed her and played with her breasts while Mike fucked her, and every time his eyes flicked up to mine, I stroked myself harder. We were all part of the same circuit, her pleasure running through the three of us. I watched his back muscles flex and release, his jaw tighten, the sweat beading at his temple, his big hands gripping her hips as he angled her up and drove deeper. I’d been under him a hundred times. I’d never seen how beautiful he is doing it. “Oh God, I’m going to come again,” Sienna cried. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t—” “I’ve got you,” Mike said, and he reached between them and rubbed her clit in firm, fast circles while he drove into her. She screamed, her whole body locking, clenching around him as she came, shuddering and sobbing and clinging to Daniel’s hand. Mike groaned and his rhythm faltered, and he lowered his forehead to hers and breathed through it. I watched him choose to stop. He eased out of her slowly and kissed her softly, then sat back on his heels, chest heaving, and looked across the room at me. He was saving the rest for me, and we both knew it. I came again, silently and hard, with my eyes on his. Daniel moved over Sienna and gave her something slow and sweet to bring her down. She looped her arms around his neck and laughed against his mouth, drunk on it. I let them have it. The lamps glowed. The room was thick with the smell of skin and sex, and through all of it ran the thread of Mike’s eyes on mine, dark, hungry and waiting. Sienna, flushed and glowing, kissed Mike’s cheek and squeezed my hand as she passed. Daniel took her by the hand and led her to the shower, his palm at the small of her back, and I heard her laugh before the door closed. A moment later the water started, and the sound of the two of them settled into the walls, warm and distant and entirely theirs. Mike stayed where he was, kneeling on the bed, his chest rising and falling, and looked at me. “Come here,” I said. I saw it all in his face, the heat, the relief, the question. He slid off the bed, crossed the room in three strides, and had me up out of the chair and in his arms before I could say another word, his forehead against mine. “Was that what you wanted?” he asked. “It was better,” I said. “Now come here. I want you all to myself.” “Mine,” he said, and the possessive edge in it went straight through me. I rested my hands across his chest and repeated, “Mine.” I backed him toward the bed until his knees met the mattress, and pushed him onto his back and climbed over him, and this time I wasn’t the one watching. I was the one he couldn’t look away from, and he told me so, his hands gripping my hips, his voice shaking around my name. I sank down onto him slowly, and he was still hard from watching me, still hungry, still holding on after everything he’d given Sienna. I rode him with all the urgency I’d stored up, and he groaned, low and ragged. Then the bed groaned, long and low, right under us. We both froze. I looked down at him. “You cannot break another bed,” I whispered. Mike’s eyes went wide with mock innocence. He mouthed, Me? and nodded pointedly at my hips. I smirked, slow and wicked, and rolled them once, deliberately, to feel the frame answer. “If we break another bed,” I murmured, leaning down until my mouth was at his ear, “I’m taking you on the floor.” Something dark and delighted lit up in his face. His hands tightened on my hips, and for a moment I thought he might laugh, but what came out of him was a low, rough sound that went straight through me. “Is that a promise?” he breathed. “Try me.” He rolled us in one smooth motion and the lead was his again, the mattress giving one last, reproachful creak. He caught both my wrists in one hand and pinned them above my head. He drove into me deep and slow, then harder, murmuring against my ear until I couldn’t tell his words from my own pulse. I wrapped my legs around him and held on, and the whole room dissolved. I came with his name in my mouth, and he followed a moment later, shuddering, his face buried in my neck. It felt like coming home, slow now, deep and certain, until the room fell away. We lay still, my head on his chest, his heartbeat slowing under my ear. The shower had stopped some time ago, and somewhere in there the door had clicked shut on their way out. Neither of us had noticed. Neither of us looked at the clock. Days could have passed and neither of us would know.

30 October 2026

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Vicki and I arrived at Debauchery, wasted no time in stripping down to our playsuits, me naked and Vicki wearing only black thigh-high stockings with black leather stiletto-heeled boots that came up to her thighs. Our first stop was the playroom with the floor covered by mattresses. Looking for some work space, I looked around to see how best to position ourselves. Near me was the head of a woman who was getting her pussy ploughed by a guy I had seen around before. A bald man next to her was watching the action intently. He looked familiar and so did she, apart from the fact that she was upside down and identifying her from that angle was very difficult. Moving on, Vicki and I got down to work, with her leg on my shoulder as I used the angle to drive my cock deeper into her wet pussy. When we had finished, I looked around but found the couple were no longer in the room. We took a break and headed downstairs to mingle. In the meantime the bald man came out of the toilets. He had to pass by me and as he did he raised his left arm to his head, trying to avoid being recognised by me. It was too late. I said: “Hello, Darren” and he stopped, we chatted and he indicated Lena was sitting on the couch in the living room. I went over and said hello to one of my former employees. Once the shock value had run out, Vicki told them that we would often have another two couples for a light lunch and play on a Sunday afternoon. They said they would be pleased to come. The next weekend, Lena and Darren came over and we were drinking wine while waiting for the other couple to arrive. They failed to call and failed to arrive so we went upstairs. Quickly clothes began to hit the floor and soon we were on the bed. I put a condom on and enjoyed the experience of sliding my cock into an attractive woman I had known in a previous life. In the meantime, Darren was busy driving his cock into Vicki's wet cunt. We eventually rotated so that Darren was fucking Lena and I was pounding Vicki as she dangled her stockinged legs on my shoulders. We stopped for some more wine and conversation. Vicki apologised for the no-shows and said she would arrange another Sunday orgy in three weeks and she will make sure she asks reliable people. We had another round with my cock in Lena and Darren's cock in Vicki before Darren and I came in our partners. Three weeks later, Lena and Darren turned up for another party only to find out that the other different couple had bailed as well. However, we made the best of things. Vicki had brought out her double-ended 12 inch dildo to make up for the slack in the cock supply. With Lena on her back and one end of the dildo in her pussy, Vicki was on top of her in cowgirl mode with the other end of the dildo buried in Vicki's pussy. The next routine was both women were on their sides with one leg in the air as the dildo was pushed back and forth while buried in two very wet cunts at the same time. After that display, Darren and I were very keen to be stand-ins for the dildo. I fucked Lena and Darren fucked Vicki. One more change and we were back fucking our partners without condoms, just orgasms.

29 October 2026

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This is a true account of our second encounter of many, recalled to the best of my knowledge. I am writing it as a personal record of the pleasure, connection, and enjoyment we shared that night. We had returned to the same hotel. The first time we met had been careful and exploratory, conversation, laughter, a single memorable kiss outside the bar. The second meeting began the same way, in the same low-lit booth, but the atmosphere was already different. The initial nervousness had softened into something warmer and more certain. By the time we walked the short distance to the hotel again, there was no hesitation left between us. We knew we wanted more. The room was the same one we had used before, or one so similar it felt familiar the moment the door closed behind us. Soft lighting, the distant murmur of the city beyond the windows, the quiet privacy that allowed everything else to fall away. She stood near the foot of the bed while her husband and I set down our things. I took a moment simply to look at her. She was 57, a mother of three, and her body carried the unmistakable signs of both. There was a soft fullness to her stomach, the gentle rounding that comes from carrying children. Her hips were broad and generous, her thighs soft and strong. Fine lines marked the corners of her dark eyes and the skin of her neck. Yet none of it diminished her. If anything, it made her more beautiful. She was exceptionally beautiful, long brown hair falling in soft waves past her shoulders, dark eyes that were still bright and intelligent, and a body that was all soft, inviting curves. Her breasts were full and heavy, the kind of voluptuous weight that comes with age and motherhood, and they filled out her blouse in a way that was impossible to ignore. There was nothing fragile or girlish about her. She was a mature, sensual woman who wore her years and her history with quiet confidence, and the result was deeply attractive. I stepped closer. We began as we had the previous week, with conversation and easy laughter, but the undercurrent was stronger now. When I finally kissed her, there was no cautious exploration left. Her mouth opened under mine almost at once. I felt the soft, substantial weight of her breasts press against my chest as she leaned into me. Her husband stood close beside us, one hand resting on the small of her back, watching with the same open, appreciative expression he had shown from the beginning. I unbuttoned her blouse slowly. The fabric parted to reveal the black lace of her bra and the upper slopes of those full, heavy breasts. I ran my fingertips along the soft skin just above the cups, then slipped one finger beneath the lace to brush a nipple. It tightened immediately under my touch. She exhaled, a quiet sound of pleasure, and her head tipped slightly back against her husband’s shoulder. I unhooked the bra and eased it away. Her breasts settled free, large, soft, the dark nipples already peaked against skin that showed the gentle signs of age and motherhood. I cupped them both, feeling their real weight settle into my palms, and lowered my mouth to one. I sucked gently at first, then more firmly, while my fingers worked the other. Her hands came up into my hair. Her husband kissed the side of her neck and stroked her slowly, clearly enjoying the sight of her being pleasured. We undressed her together after that. Skirt, then the matching black panties. When she was finally bare, I took my time looking at her again. The long brown hair falling around her shoulders. The dark eyes watching me with growing heat. The full, heavy breasts rising and falling with her breathing. The soft, rounded stomach that spoke of the three children she had carried. The broad, generous hips and the soft thighs. The neat triangle of dark hair between her legs, already glistening. She was a fifty-seven-year-old mother of three, and every curve of her body showed it—and she was still exceptionally, unmistakably beautiful. I knelt in front of her. I kissed the insides of her soft thighs, working my way slowly upward until my mouth hovered over her. When I licked her, it was long and deliberate. She tasted clean and warm. I took my time—broad strokes of my tongue, then focused attention on her clit, sucking gently while two fingers slid inside her. She was already wet and tightening around me. Her husband kissed her deeply while I worked, one hand cupping a full breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. I teased her deliberately, slowing whenever she seemed close, drawing soft sounds of frustration from her before I resumed. When she finally came, her thighs tightened around my head and her inner muscles pulsed strongly around my fingers. I stayed with her through it, licking more gently as the waves faded, then pressed soft kisses to her inner thighs while she recovered. She recovered enough to look at me with a playful, slightly dazed smile. “Your turn.” She undressed me with steady hands. When she took me into her mouth, the heat was immediate. She sucked slowly at first, tongue swirling around the head, then took me deeper while her husband stroked her back and occasionally reached around to caress her heavy breasts. I rested a hand lightly in her hair, simply feeling the movement, until the pleasure threatened to become too much. I eased her back and guided her onto the bed. She lay against the pillows, her husband stretching out beside her. I settled between her thighs and rubbed the head of my cock slowly along her wet folds, teasing us both, before I pushed into her in one long, slow thrust. She was tight and slick and perfect around me. We both exhaled at the same moment. I began to move in deep, steady strokes, watching the way her full breasts swayed with every thrust, the soft flesh of her stomach shifting slightly beneath me. Her husband kissed her and slid his hand between them so he could stroke her clit in time with my movements. The three of us found a shared rhythm, skin against skin, soft moans, the quiet sounds of wetness. I changed the angle, lifting one of her legs higher so I could go deeper. Her dark eyes locked with mine. There was real passion in the look, not only physical hunger, but the emotional charge of trusting someone enough to open completely. I felt it too. This was no longer simply a first sexual encounter. Something warmer and more connected was forming between the three of us. I covered her husband’s hand with my own where it rested on her clit. Our fingers overlapped as we both pleasured her. She came a second time with a sharp, open cry, her body clenching hard around my cock. The sensation pulled me over the edge. I thrust deep and held there as I came inside her in long, strong pulses. We stayed joined for a while afterward, breathing hard, bodies still trembling. Eventually I eased out of her and settled on her other side so that she lay between us. We traded slow, lazy kisses, her with me, then with her husband, then simply held one another in the warm quiet that follows real pleasure. Later, when the urgency had faded, we talked softly. About how natural it had felt. About how much we had enjoyed one another. About the possibility of seeing each other again. I ran my fingers through her long brown hair and looked across at her husband. He met my eyes and smiled, the same easy, open expression he had worn all evening. There was no need to decide everything that night. The evening had already given us more than enough. But as I felt the soft, warm weight of her body between us, still flushed, still beautiful in all its mature, curves, I knew this would not be the last time the three of us found ourselves in a room like this. The anticipation of what might come next settled over us like a shared secret: playful, sensual, and full of quiet promise.

27 October 2026

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It was with a thrill of delicious expectation that I loudly knocked on the door - the first time I came here I was nervous about what and who to expect when the door opened but this time I knew what to expect and I could feel my cock getting harder as I remembered the fun we had the first time I was here, ramming my cock into Kai's tight pussy and feeling my balls slapping against her firm round ass, hearing her moan in pleasure as I tugged her long silky hair in rhythm with my thrusting cock and the sight of my cum glistening in her lustrous hair. Kai opened the door and gave me a light kiss and cute smile of welcome, her negligee barely covered her gorgeous body, her lovely long hair was shining with glowing health and careful grooming, she must have just washed it and I could almost taste the fragrance of her shampoo but I was a little disappointed I did not get the chance to help her wash it or comb our cum all the way through it. Her fiance gave me a big smile of welcome and handed me a cold drink while Kai was telling me they had not had any sex for a while because they were saving it until I could join them, she was so horny and aching for cock that she had already had a quick, early shower in preparation for me but she could not stop herself from fingering her pussy and was so ready for us to use her body for our pleasures and hers of course. Kai took my hand and led me into the bedroom which was dimly lit with aromatic candles and exotic incense, the perfect place for erotic pleasures, the fiance closed the door and shut out the real world and prepared for the fantasy world, he sat on a chair and pulled out his big hard cock, glistening with pre-cum and started to rub himself slowly while he waited for us to get started. Kai quickly pulled her negligee off and showed off her splendid body, large firm breasts with big dark nipples standing out proudly were waiting to be sucked and have my cock tickling and teasing them, she told me to wait while she prepared herself and took a bottle of sweet smelling oil and started to rub it all over her body, rubbing it into her tits, under her arms and between her legs and she turned around to rub the oil into her firm ass-cheeks, the little teaser bent over so I could see all of her - I quickly stripped off and rubbed my cock in anticipation. She lay back on the bed, her long silky hair fanned out beneath her like a soft pillow, she opened wide her legs and I could see her cute pussy, smooth and slightly wet with anticipation and I fell on her and buried my face into her, my tongue going deep inside her and deliciously exploring her, nibbling on her hard clit and sucking her pussy lips, I ran my tongue all over her, inside and out, drinking her juices as they flowed, tickling with my tongue her cute little ass and making her squirm in pleasure. I put a finger inside her and gently moved it around, in and out and all around and all the while, sucking on her clit, trying to make it bigger if that was possible but she was getting so close to a shuddering organism I backed off wanting to delay that for as long as possible and tease and play with her some more. My cock was aching for attention, I wanted to slide into her tight wet pussy and pound her until I spurted hot cum inside her but that would be such a waste, I wanted my cum on her not inside her and it was much to early, I wanted to fuck every part of her body and rub my cum into her hair and have her suck my cock clean but that would come later. It was time to move around, try every playful position, Kai said she wanted me to fuck her tits with my cock, squeeze it between her deep cleavage and to rub my cock and balls all over her hair and I watched as she pulled her glorious hair into a long round ponytail and put it between her full ripe breasts and told me to come and fuck them, so I moved up and nestled my cock on the soft bed of silky hair, her breasts held tight as she squeezed them together and held me there, I moved up and down the silky smooth burrow, loving every minute of it and thinking it does not get any better than this but it does... I then felt the bed move as her fiance moved onto the bed, he was naked and holding a big hard cock, he buried his face between her legs and started sucking and licking her as I had been doing, Kai was moaning and moving in total pleasure and ecstasy, loving all the attention she was getting. I wanted so badly to shoot my load then and there but that would spoil it, I didn't want to finish our playing too soon and we all had to cum together to make the occasion just perfect, I moved off her and said I wanted her suck my cock, gently so I don't cum and position herself so I could watch her fiance fuck her hard from behind, doggy style just the way she liked it. I moved over and lay on my back, my cock still hard and Kai moved down, letting her long hair trail down my front until she reached my cock and started to suck me, her beautiful hair spread all over me, hiding her face but I could feel her lips sucking hard on me and her hands playing with my balls - her fiance seeing her in a dream position moved behind her and slid his hard cock deep inside her and started to pound her, I could hear his balls slapping against her ass and then he grabbed her hair and pulled her towards him as he settled down into slow movement, moving her head up and down on my cock while his thrusting moved her back and forth - it was just perfect, we were as one... Kai could not stop herself from having a shattering orgasm, she shook with pleasure and stopped sucking me and slowly moved over and lay on her front, she spread her long soft hair down her back and said "You guys know what I want, do it to me" so we moved either side of her and started to pump our cocks until two creamy loads spurted out and mixed all over her hair, we squeezed and sprayed cum all over her until we were spent and lay down beside her - totally exhausted. "Hey you guys have not finished yet" Kai said, but I was anxious to be the one so I took her comb and straddled her back - my now soft cock nestled in her bum-crack and gently started to comb her hair, long strokes to mix the cum into much of it as possible. It shone with wet creamy stickiness and was becoming stiff but i still kept combing, my cock felt so good nestled in her crack and I could feel myself getting harder, it felt so good there but I had to look after Kai's needs, she was loving the cum been spread though her hair it even though I was pulling a bit and when I could comb no more she sat up and wrapped it into a stiff ponytail and smelt it, and then ran her tongue over the drying cum "Yummm... thanks guys - you did real good" Oh yes I thought... I want to do a lot more with that hair and not just with cum - her fantasy is my fantasy and cannot wait to try that out...

26 October 2026

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The first thing I noticed was the way he looked at her. It wasn't particularly obvious. Just a glance across the room as she laughed at something I'd said, his eyes lingering a moment longer than necessary. I smiled into my wineglass. They were a beautiful couple, with the easy confidence of people who know themselves and are comfortable in their own skin. She was elegant, with dark hair falling loosely around her shoulders and a laugh that made you want to join in. He was handsome in a slightly rugged, distinguished way I've always found appealing, with a warm smile and a wonderfully dry sense of humour. But what intrigued me most was their chemistry. The little touches. The private jokes. The way his hand occasionally settled on her knee, and how she'd lean towards him when he spoke. They were clearly very much in love, and I found that captivating. As the evening unfolded, I became increasingly distracted by these small displays of affection. When she reached across him for the wine bottle, his hand settled instinctively against her back. Later, as she laughed at one of his jokes, she rested her hand on his thigh without seeming to realise she'd done it. I wondered whether either of them noticed how often they touched. There was something lovely about it. The kind of intimacy that can't be manufactured. At one point, I told them they were my favourite kind of couple. "The kind who actually seem to like each other," I explained. They laughed, and she gave me an amused, slightly suspicious look. "Are you flirting with us?" "Would that be terribly inappropriate?" Her smile suggested she didn't think so. I liked her enormously. There was something open about her, a warmth that made conversation effortless, and beneath that elegant composure a playful streak I suspected she didn't always let people see. Her partner seemed content to let the two of us entertain ourselves, though I noticed he was watching our exchanges with considerable interest. We opened another bottle, and somewhere along the way the conversation turned to massage. They were both fond of it, although he complained, with theatrical suffering, that he was usually the one doing all the work. Naturally, I couldn't let such an injustice go unaddressed. I mentioned that I happened to have some lovely massage oil, a perfectly comfortable bedroom, and nowhere else I needed to be that evening. There were amused glances and a moment of consideration. She looked at him, smiling. "Oh, go on. You deserve a little pampering." And that was that. He followed me into the bedroom while she collected our glasses. The room was softly lit, the bedside lamps casting a warm glow across the freshly made bed. I put on some quiet music and took a bottle of oil from the drawer. He seemed amused by how prepared I was. I assured him that I simply liked to be a good hostess. His partner appeared moments later, carrying our wine and looking far too entertained. She wondered aloud whether she ought to be worried about leaving us alone. "Terribly worried," I said. "Although you're more than welcome to stay and supervise." She decided that sounded like an excellent idea. He pulled off his shirt and stretched out facedown on the bed, head resting on his folded arms, while she settled against the pillows beside him. I warmed some oil between my palms and set my hands on his shoulders. He relaxed almost immediately. There was something satisfying about the way the tension gave way beneath my fingers. His shoulders softened, his breathing slowed, and every so often he sighed in appreciation. His partner teased him about becoming far too accustomed to being spoiled, and I enjoyed their banter. Even their teasing was affectionate, full of references and shared memories that spoke of years together. After a while, I glanced across at her. "Come a little closer." She raised an eyebrow, clearly wondering what I was up to, but obliged, settling beside his head, close enough to reach him without disturbing me. She brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and leaned down to kiss his cheek. He turned his face towards hers, smiling. It was a simple moment, but I watched their expressions change. The teasing fell away, replaced by something softer and altogether more intimate. She kissed him again, and this time he lifted his head to meet her. I kept working across his shoulders, watching with growing fascination as their attention drifted from me and towards one another. Her fingers slipped into his hair. He reached for her hand. Then, almost without thinking, he rolled onto his back and drew her down against him, and she laughed softly as she settled across his chest, her dark hair falling around their faces. I quietly withdrew my hands. Neither of them noticed. I moved to the chair at the foot of the bed and took my wine with me. It seemed only polite to give them room. Their earlier tenderness hadn't disappeared, but something had changed. The kisses grew deeper, hungrier, and there was a new urgency in them, a growing impatience that made the little pauses and affectionate smiles all the more compelling. His hands moved down her back and over the curve of her hips, and she pressed closer, a low sound escaping her that I felt somewhere beneath my ribs. She sat up, straddling him, and he looked at her as though he'd never seen her before. She pulled her shirt over her head and dropped it off the edge of the bed. Her bra followed. His hands came up to cup her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples until they hardened, and she let out a shaky breath and rocked her hips down against him. Through his jeans I could see exactly how much he wanted her. I'd stopped drinking my wine. There was nothing rehearsed in any of it. It was hunger and familiarity in the same breath, and the two together were more erotic than anything I could have staged. He caught her around the waist and rolled her beneath him, and then his mouth was on her throat, her collarbone, her breast, drawing a nipple between his lips and sucking until she arched off the mattress and tangled her fingers in his hair, saying his name like a question she already knew the answer to. The rest of their clothes disappeared in a flurry of impatient hands and breathless laughter. Her underwear went over the side of the bed. His followed. He was thick and hard and beautiful, and she wrapped her hand around him at once, stroking slowly, her thumb spreading the bead of wetness at the tip. He groaned against her mouth. He kissed his way down her stomach, and she parted her thighs for him without being asked. I had the perfect view of his mouth settling against her, the slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue, the way her hips lifted to meet it. Her fingers curled into the sheets. The sounds she made were low and unguarded, and I could hear how wet she was, and I pressed my thighs together in my chair and said nothing at all. He slid two fingers inside her without lifting his mouth, curling them in a way that made her gasp, and her whole body began to tremble. "Please," she said. "I want you inside me." He didn't make her wait. He moved up over her and she guided him to her, her legs wrapping around his waist, and he pushed into her in one long, slow stroke that dragged a cry from both of them. He stayed there for a moment, buried to the hilt, his forehead against hers, and then he began to move: deep and deliberate at first, her hands sliding over his back, her heels pressing into him, urging him on. Then not slow at all. The bed began to protest in time with them. Skin met skin with a wet, unmistakable sound. Her breasts moved with every thrust, and her breathing broke into short, helpless cries, yes and there and harder, and he gave her all of it, gripping her thigh and angling her hips higher until her voice cracked. I was no longer pretending to be a bystander. My free hand had found its way beneath the hem of my skirt, and I pressed down and slowly, quietly, began to move. Neither of them noticed. I doubt they could have noticed anything. He pulled out and turned her onto her stomach, and she came up onto her hands and knees with a breathless laugh that turned into a moan as he pushed back inside her. His hands closed around her hips. Her face dropped to the pillow. I watched him fuck her, watched the muscles shift across his back and her dark hair spill over her shoulders, and I slipped my fingers beneath the silk and found myself wet, swollen, and entirely out of patience. He reached around to touch her, and she shattered. It was a long, shuddering orgasm that tore his name out of her and clenched her around him until he swore, low and rough, and slowed to hold her through it. I came with her, just from watching, biting my lip to stay quiet, my thighs shaking against the arms of the chair. He lasted only a few strokes longer. He gripped her hips, thrust deep, and came with a groan that seemed to come from somewhere very far down, his whole body locked against hers, and then he collapsed over her, and they both fell into the sheets in a tangle of limbs and ragged breath. I withdrew my hand and picked up my wine. He pulled her into his arms, and for a long while they simply held one another, flushed and smiling, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. At last she looked over his shoulder at me, bright-eyed, her hair a wreck, and raised an eyebrow. "Terribly worried," she said, in a passable imitation of my voice. I lifted my glass to her. "Entirely justified."

26 October 2026

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Ik kijk naar haar terwijl ze naakt voor me knielt, handen keurig op haar rug, ogen neergeslagen. Lisa. Mijn ideale slet. Al vanaf het moment dat ze hier binnenkwam, wist ik dat ze anders was. Niet zomaar een masochist. Nee, ze is een verslávende masochist. Hoe harder ik haar breek, hoe natter en hongeriger ze wordt. En dat doet iets met me. Iets primitiefs. Mijn pik komt al half hard omhoog als ik alleen maar naar haar rode wangen kijk. “Open je mond, hoer.” Ze doet het meteen, tong uitgestoken, ogen vol verwachting. Die overgave… fuck. Dat is wat me elke keer weer keihard maakt. Ze wil dit écht. Ze sméékt erom met haar hele lichaam. Ik geef haar een harde klap in haar gezicht. Haar hoofd klapt opzij, maar ze draait meteen terug en opent haar mond weer. Een zachte kreun ontsnapt haar. Mijn pik schiet nu volledig rechtop. Die combinatie van pijn en dankbaarheid in haar ogen maakt me high. Ik voel de macht door mijn aderen stromen. Ik grijp haar haren vast en ram mijn dikke pik diep in haar keel. Geen voorspel, geen zachtjes doen. Ik neuk haar gezicht zoals ze het verdient: hard, diep, meedogenloos. Haar keel knijpt om me heen, ze kokhalsde hevig, slijm druipt over haar kin op die mooie volle tieten. En toch duwt ze haar gezicht verder naar voren, neus tegen mijn buik, alsof ze nog dieper wil. “Godverdomme, wat ben je toch een perfecte keelgat,” grom ik. Mijn ballen trekken samen van puur genot. Elke keer dat ze zich laat misbruiken, dat ze haar grenzen opgeeft en zich laat reduceren tot mijn persoonlijke cumdump, voel ik een golf van pure dominantie. Het is verslavend. Haar tranen, haar gesmoorde geluiden, de manier waarop haar kutje zichtbaar druipt terwijl ik haar keel verwoest, het maakt me harder dan staal. Ik trek me terug, geef haar twee snelle klappen op haar wangen en kijk hoe ze naar adem hapt, haar gezicht rood en nat. Ze kijkt me aan met die blik. Die fucking blik die zegt: “Gebruik me nog harder, Meester.” Mijn pik klopt pijnlijk. Ik kan bijna niet wachten. Ik sleur haar aan haar haren naar de bank, gooi haar erop en bind haar polsen strak achter haar rug. Dan begin ik met haar tieten. Ik knijp, sla, trek en martel ze tot ze donkerrood zijn. Ik zet de zware klemmen erop en trek eraan terwijl ik haar recht in de ogen kijk. Ze gilt het uit, maar haar heupen schokken van geilheid. Ze wordt er alleen maar natter van. Dat is wat me echt kapot maakt. Haar onverzadigbare honger naar pijn en vernedering. Hoe ze haar lichaam aanbiedt als mijn speeltje, hoe ze smeekt om meer terwijl de tranen over haar wangen lopen. Het geeft me een goddelijk gevoel. Alsof ik haar bezit, volledig. Ik draai haar om, kont omhoog, en begin haar te spanken. Hard. Ritmisch. Mijn hand laat rode afdrukken achter op haar billen. Bij elke klap duwt ze haar kont naar achteren, smekend om meer. Haar kutje is kletsnat, glimmend, klaar om gebruikt te worden. “Zeg het,” beveel ik terwijl ik haar haar vastgrijp. “Ik ben uw ideale slet, Meester… Uw pijnhoer… Uw vuile cumdump…” hijgt ze. Die woorden. Die overgave. Mijn pik klopt zo hard dat het bijna pijn doet. Ik ram mezelf in één stoot in haar strakke, soppende kut en neuk haar alsof ze alleen daarvoor bestaat. Terwijl ik haar ram, blijf ik haar kont slaan en haar tepels martelen. Haar orgasmes komen snel en hevig, maar ik stop niet. Ik gebruik haar lichaam tot ze schokt en krijst. Elke keer dat ze klaarkomt van de pijn die ik haar geef, voel ik een diepe, duistere voldoening. Dit is waar ik voor leef. Dit perfecte wezen dat zich helemaal laat breken, dat geniet van haar eigen degradatie, dat me aanbidt terwijl ik haar verneder. Ik trek me terug, draai haar om en spuit een dikke lading over haar gezicht en in haar open mond. Ze likt alles op wat ze kan, dankbaar, hongerig naar meer. Ik streel even over haar verhitte wang en fluister: “Goede meid.” Maar we zijn nog lang niet klaar. Want zolang zij zich zo laat gebruiken, zolang ze me aankijkt met die onverzadigbare masochistische honger, blijf ik hard. Blijf ik haar willen breken. Blijf ik haar willen bezitten. Ze is van mij. En ik ben nog maar net begonnen.

25 October 2026

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There is something quite special about meeting a couple for the first time. You have exchanged messages, perhaps a few photographs, and enough conversation to establish that there is a mutual curiosity. But none of that quite prepares you for the moment you finally sit across from each other in a bar, drinks in hand, discovering whether the chemistry you imagined actually exists. That was how it began with these two. We had chosen a relaxed little bar with low lighting, comfortable booths, and just enough background music to make conversation feel private without having to raise our voices. I arrived a little early, ordered a drink, and took a moment to settle in. When they walked through the door, I recognized them immediately. He had an easy, friendly manner, and she was every bit as attractive in person as she had been in her photographs. But I noticed something else, too. Beneath her smile was a little nervousness, the understandable uncertainty of meeting someone new when the possibilities might extend beyond an ordinary evening out. I wasn't there to rush anything. Quite the opposite. After introductions, I made a point of including them both in the conversation. I asked him about his interests, discovered we shared a few opinions on travel and the occasional ridiculousness of modern life, and soon we were laughing about something that probably wasn't nearly as funny as we thought. She gradually began to relax. Rather than making the conversation about the reason we had met, I was more interested in finding out who she was. What made her laugh? What did she enjoy? What did she think about when she wasn't working or attending to the thousand little responsibilities that fill an ordinary week? Every now and then, our eyes would meet, and there would be that fleeting moment of awareness. A smile held just a second longer than necessary. A playful comment. A hint of curiosity. I could sense that she was trying to work out what kind of man I was. Perhaps she expected someone more forward, someone who would steer the conversation towards sex at the first opportunity. Instead, I was perfectly happy to let the evening unfold at its own pace. Her husband was an important part of the equation, and I wanted him to know that I understood that. I wasn't interested in treating him as an obstacle to anything. I enjoyed his company, respected the relationship they had built together, and wanted both of them to feel comfortable with me. By the time we finished our drinks, the initial awkwardness had all but disappeared. There was no grand seduction that evening. No pressure to make a decision. No expectation that anything had to happen simply because we had arranged to meet. Outside the bar, we said our goodbyes. I turned to her, smiled, and asked if I could kiss her. She agreed. What followed was a kiss that surprised us both a little. It began gently, almost cautiously, but there was unmistakable warmth behind it. When we finally drew apart, her expression had changed. The nervousness was still there, perhaps, but now it was accompanied by something more intriguing. Anticipation. I smiled, wished them both a lovely evening, and went on my way without trying to turn that moment into a promise. Sometimes, the most attractive thing you can do is leave someone wanting to see you again. And I had a feeling I would. We arranged to meet at the same bar the following week. This time, the atmosphere was different from the moment they arrived. She greeted me with a warmer smile, and when we sat down, she seemed much more comfortable with the whole idea of being there. There was a familiarity between us now, a little thread of shared experience that made everything easier. Her husband and I picked up where we had left off. We talked, joked, and discovered a few more things we had in common. I found that I genuinely liked him, which made the evening all the more enjoyable. There is something reassuring about being able to laugh with a man while also sharing a mutual attraction to the same woman, without either of you feeling that you have to compete. And she was becoming increasingly playful. Our conversation drifted between everyday life, travel, relationships, and the things that make people tick. Beneath the easy banter, though, there was a growing awareness of the space between us. When I spoke to her, she turned towards me. When I made a teasing observation, she responded with a smile that suggested she was becoming comfortable enough to let me see a little more of her personality. I was happy to flirt, but I kept checking in with her in small, natural ways. A glance, a question, a moment to see whether she wanted me to come a little closer or preferred to keep things as they were. She began initiating some of those moments herself. A hand resting briefly on my arm. A private joke. Her fingers brushing mine when she passed me her glass. Nothing needed to be forced. At one point, her husband caught my eye and grinned at something she had said. I laughed, and the three of us shared the moment. That small exchange mattered to me. Whatever happened between us, I wanted it to be something we were all enjoying together. As the evening progressed, the conversation became more intimate. We spoke honestly about attraction, boundaries, trust, and the importance of being able to say what you wanted without feeling obliged to follow through. I told them that I liked chemistry, but I valued comfort more. That I would always rather have a wonderful evening that ended with a kiss than an experience someone felt they had been talked into. She looked at me thoughtfully. Then she smiled. "I think that's why I'm more relaxed tonight," she said. I was quietly pleased to hear it. Later, when the conversation turned to whether we fancied continuing the evening somewhere more private, I didn't assume the answer. I looked at them both and asked what they felt like doing. Her husband was enthusiastic. She looked at him, then back at me, and nodded. "Yes," she said. "I'd like that." It was a simple answer, but there was something lovely about the certainty in it. The hotel was only a short walk away. Outside, the night air was cool, and the city seemed to have softened around us. We walked together, talking and laughing, with none of the awkwardness that might have accompanied such a decision a week earlier. Everyone was smiling. Everyone was comfortable. We agreed that we would take things slowly, communicate openly, and make sure that nobody felt they had to do anything simply because we had come this far. Then we went upstairs. The room was warm and softly lit, with the distant sounds of the city filtering through the windows. For a moment, we simply stood together, letting the reality of the evening settle in. There was no need for a dramatic opening. I poured us some water, made a lighthearted remark about how hotel rooms always seemed to have more pillows than anyone could reasonably need, and managed to make them both laugh. The little moment broke the tension beautifully. I have always believed that being able to laugh together is one of the most underrated forms of intimacy. As we settled in, the conversation continued. There were questions, affectionate teasing, and a few shy smiles. I made sure to keep both of them involved, never allowing the excitement of my growing connection with her to make him feel overlooked. In fact, the more relaxed we became, the more naturally everything seemed to fit. She moved closer to me on the sofa. This time, there was no uncertainty in the gesture. Her shoulder rested against mine, and when I turned towards her, she met my eyes with a quiet confidence that hadn't been there during our first meeting. I brushed a strand of hair away from her face, pausing long enough for her to close the remaining distance herself. Our kiss was unhurried. It carried the memory of that first evening, but it was different now. There was less hesitation and more trust, less wondering and more knowing. When we separated, she was smiling. Her husband sat close beside her, relaxed and engaged, and I reached out to include him in the moment. We shared a warm embrace, and the three of us laughed softly at how something that had seemed so unfamiliar a week earlier could now feel surprisingly natural. That was the moment I realized what I liked most about being with this couple. It wasn't simply the attraction, although that was certainly there. It was the sense that we were creating something together, rather than following a script. Nobody was performing a role. Nobody needed to prove anything. We could be playful, affectionate, curious, and honest all at once. As the evening grew more intimate, the conversation gave way to lingering kisses and gentle touches, each new moment shaped by mutual enthusiasm and the comfort we had built together. We took our time, checking in with each other and allowing the mood to develop without expectation. There was a wonderful warmth to it all: the closeness, the smiles exchanged across the room, the occasional whispered joke, the pleasure of discovering that everyone was enjoying the same moment in their own way. I was particularly conscious of making sure she felt free to express herself. When she wanted closeness, I welcomed it. When we paused to talk or laugh, I enjoyed that just as much. There was no race to reach a destination, no invisible scorecard measuring how far the evening had progressed. Her husband and I continued to share easy conversation and affectionate camaraderie, and that friendship became part of the attraction rather than something separate from it. The evening unfolded in its own time, private and unhurried, with the details belonging to the three of us. What I remember most vividly isn't any single gesture. It is the look on her face when she realised she could relax completely. The ease with which her husband and I could exchange a grin. The way a little humour could dissolve any remaining nervousness. And the feeling that we had arrived at this point not because anyone had pushed, persuaded, or expected it, but because all three of us genuinely wanted to be there.

24 October 2026

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I rock up to a party, not realising until I enter that it's a party for women only. There is so many women that I loose count. The party is in the middle of no where. I'm to tired to drive back but the intimidation of so many beautiful women scares me and I'm hesitant in asking to rest for a bit before I leave. I build up the courage to ask if it's okay to use one of the rooms to rest before the long drive back home. The party organiser grabs my hand, pulls me inside and directs me to a bedroom to rest. Stay as long as you need she says as she closes the door. The door locks. The party starts to get louder and louder with singing and laughing. I wanted to pop my head out to see the excitement, but the door is locked from the outside, I can not open the door. I start to get a little worried. I tried calling out but the music and laughter is overpowering. I decided to go back to sleep and wait for it to quieten down. I get woken suddenly. There is a room full of women. All naked. The party organiser looks at me and says 'are you ready'. Ready for what I said. To be QUEENED she says. As she says this one of the women jumps onto my face saying I'm 1st. She sits on my face and starts riding me like a queen. She orgasims and high fives one of the other ladies as they swap. One by one they take it turns to queen me. My face is literally dripping in vaginal fluid, my tongue has gone numb. The room just keeps filling up with more and more women waiting their turn. Some can't wait so they start jumping on my where ever they can fit and rubbing their vaginas all over me. My legs, arms feet. I am now saturated, head to toe. Then the Queen of all the Queen's comes into the room and says OFF. It's my turn. They all stand back. I take in a big breath. And the queen jumps on and she starts riding me like there is no tomorrow. She starts to clench her legs around my face, the shivers through her body start then all I hear is ' oh my god'. She starts squirting , her body is shaking in delight. Then before I know it all the women standing around me start squirting all over me. The voices have all gone from laughing and singing to groaning in delight. The queen jumps off and says I love you babe, happy birthday. Same again for next year.

24 October 2026

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In the few seconds before knocking on the door I again asked myself "What am I doing here and is this a good idea", I had no idea what to expect when the door opened, a lovely lady called Kia or a big fat guy covered in tattoos wanting to know what the fuck I wanted - I had heard many times of people arranging to meet up and when they go to the address, the person who opened the door had no idea what I wanted or they were totally different to what was expected, people who looked nothing like the photos on their profile which were taken maybe 20 years earlier. I took a deep breath and knocked on the door and waited with both trepidation and excited expectations and when the door open my heart pounded and I felt a definite stirring in my cock (a good sign) as Kia stood there, just as beautiful as in her pictures, even lovelier if that was possible, big beautiful eyes and long silky hair and a body to dream about. She invited me in and introduced me to her fiance who seemed very pleased to see me and asked me to sit down and have a cold drink. We chatted for a few minutes and then Kia said she had been at uni and had not had time to wash her hair and so excused herself. We talked for a while but I found it hard to concentrate because I could hear the sound of the shower through the open bathroom door and I could smell the exotic soap she was using. I heard the shower stop and Kia going into the bedroom followed a few minutes later by the hum of a hair-dryer. It was difficult to carry on a conversation as we both knew what was going to happen in the next few hours so he suggested we go into the bedroom and watch her comb her hair, something he loved to do and she loved to be watched. Kia was sitting on the bed dressed in a negligee that barely concealed her large perfectly formed breasts with dark full nipples and a beautiful firm body, as we came in she turned her back and handed me a hairbrush and so I began to brush her long silky hair that cascaded down her back like a glossy waterfall. I brushed in long slow stokes and breathed in the lovely fragrance that filled the room and without even thinking I pressed up against her back, my hard cock gently touching her through my pants - she must have felt me because she leaned back on me and let out a little moan. She said that was enough, turned around and sat on the edge of the bed and then she looked at me with her big eyes and wide inviting mouth and started to undo my pants which quickly fell to the floor and Kia took my hard cock into her month and slowly moved her head back and forth, gently sucking me - it felt so good, better than I could ever have imagined and I gently placed my hand on her head and ran my hands though her hair and kept in time with her sucking - we did this for a few minutes but it felt like hours, it was so good and I had to concentrate so I didn't cum too soon. After a little while Kia gave me one hard suck and let me go, she then undid her negligee and let it fall down so I could see her lovely creamy smooth body that was firm and inviting and whispered to me "Fuck me, I need your cock deep inside me" and turned around and got on her hands and knees and let me enjoy the sight of her perfectly round ass before I gently and slowly slid my cock deep inside her tight, wet pussy until she let out a gentle moan of pleasure. I slowly rocked back and forth, deep in concentration, enjoying every movement and feel, sliding my cock in and out of her, teasing her and satisfying her. I lent forward and took hold of her wondrous hair and pulled her head back so her body was hard against me and my cock was deep inside her, far as it would go. We were both moaning softly but I could also hear another moan and I looked over to see the fiance leaning back on a chair with his pants down and he was rubbing his cock while he was watching us, this was obviously what he wanted to see and was enjoying every moment. I wanted more so I said I wanted to taste her wetness and she turned over and open her legs for me, she had the sweetest little pussy I had seen in a long time, perfectly formed and very neat and smooth and I couldn't wait to taste her, I knelt down and started to run my tongue over her lips and tingle with her hard clit, she tasted better than I could have imaged, I just could not stop licking and sucking her all over and taking in her sweet pussy juices, Kia was moaning in total pleasure and I could feel her building up to a climax, she held my head hard against her and my tongue was deep inside her when I felt her tremble as she had shattering orgasm and I lapped up her cum juices as they flowed. I now wanted to taste her lovely firm breasts, to suck and run my tongue around her hard, erect nipples so I moved up and felt and tasted those perfect mounds that felt so good - I could not wait any longer, I wanted to cum so bad, I had been holding it back but I still wanted more time to enjoy her but I just had to slide my cock inside her but Kia said "I want you to cum my way, on my breasts and in my hair" so I backed off a little while she gathered up her beautiful long hair and put it in between her breasts and told me to fuck her hair. I moved up and put my cock into the deep pile of hair and Kia push her firm breasts together and the sensation was more than I could have imagined, the silky smooth hair rubbed against my cock and the feeling was better than I had ever had before, I could not wait anymore and I shook as I let out a big creamy load into her dark hair and I almost collapsed from the incredible sensation and held myself above her for as long as possible but before I could move away, Kia used her hair to wipe me clean, not wanting to waste a drop and then I noticed more creamy cum, the fiance had moved over and sent his hot load onto her hair as well, Kia giggled as she mixed the cum all through her hair. I lay back, totally exhausted and completely satisfied and wondered if it could get any better than what I had just experienced so I told Kia that was the best I had ever had, she looked at me and said "next time will be even better, I can promise you that"...

22 October 2026

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My free arm snakes around behind her head, half tangled in her now hanging hair. We are too busy kissing and gasping to notice if it is going to be a problem. My other arm, outstretched and tensed along the side of her bare abdomen, extends to allow my hand to tightly grip the little dimple on her taut hip that makes her moan just a little more intensely, although stifled by her lips being busily pressed against mine. Her lips are unbound only occasionally because I cannot stand another second of allowing her exposed and hard nipples to not be between my lips or playfully biting her abdomen, pleasing her bare skin while I thrust meaningfully into her yearning body; supple and silky-wet. We have been locked in this pleasing moment of frozen time for more than we can stand but we will not stop. Hot, heaving breath - frantic bodies and hands clasped ecstatic wanting. I seek her wrists with my hands, leading them up over her head and behind her neck. Both are pinned and now locked between the fingers of only one hand, freeing my other to explore all that I have access to. It may finally come to rest around her neck, which she might pleasingly outstretch with her chin pointed out, accentuating and sensation of my firm hand, or perhaps it will find the special, pleasure giving spot that makes her cry out with pleasure? No, better still; in a moment I am there with my mouth; frenzied and feverishly working to make her feel the release. Wrapping fists around her ankles or busily attending to her with fingers, my lips not leaving her before she begs for me to stop because the orgasm is now too much and coming in waves, insisting that I do whatever I want to her - just not that; not anymore. It is too much. It is more ecstasy than she can handle. Instructing her to get on all fours, she has barely complied before I am inside her again, meaningfully sliding the length of myself in and out, balling up a handful of her hair in my fist and whispering into her ear how utterly beautiful she has become, lost in her passions. The mood slows and before long she looks at me over her bare shoulder, panting and with determined, wild eyes. She is about to suggest something that has been on her mind since we began, and I cannot wait to hear what it is.. I am going to take my time and give all my gifts - every one of them - one by one.

19 October 2026

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Op een lekkere zonnige dag zat ik tussen de middag op een terrasje te genieten van de zon en van een kopje koffie. Het was druk op het terras, het was een van de eerste dagen dat je lekker een terrasje kon pakken dus volop mensen. Ik zat lekker rond te kijken en te genieten van de zon toen jij het terras op kwam, je was samen met een andere dame, jullie waren volop in gesprek. Ik denk dat het een vriendin van je was. Jullie zochten een plaatsje op het terras, ik dacht, dat is een leuke meid, die ziet er goed uit, leuke kleren aan en een mooi koppie. Je droeg een zwart kort rokje en een zwarte blouse en je vriendin een wit jurkje. Jullie namen plaats op stoelen direct in mijn gezichtsveld. Hmmm dacht ik toch een leuk uitzicht, nadat je een roseetje hadden besteld toosten jullie met elkaar,waarop wist ik natuurlijk niet. Ik had al een beetje oogcontact gezocht maar kreeg nog geen respons. Na een poosje zag ik dat jullie ook naar mij keken en ik lachte vriendelijk terug. Na een tweede roseetje vond ik dat jullie al wat losser werden en flirten nu behoorlijk. Ik natuurlijk niet ongevoelig deed mijn best om jullie aandacht te krijgen. Jij had een van de knoopjes van je blouse al verder open gemaakt en elke keer als jij je rosétje pakte had ik een geweldig uitzicht op je mooie BH en borsten. Jij streelde heel af en toe stiekem over je borst en je vriendin deed hetzelfde, ik en jullie volgens mij ook werden er behoorlijk hitsig hiervan. Je fluisterde af en toe wat in de oren van je vriendin en jullie hadden daarna een grote glimlach, was wel nieuwsgierig wat jullie bespraken. We flirten lekker met zijn drietjes totdat jij plotseling weg liep, Waarschijnlijk even naar de wc dacht ik. Jij kwam een beetje giechelend terug en ik zag dat jij iets in je tas stopte. Het was iets zwarts, leek een beetje op een kanten slipje maar dat was waarschijnlijk weer mijn dirty minds. Echter toen jij weer ging zitten en je benen iets uit elkaar deed zag ik werkelijk wat ik graag wilde zien, jij had je slip uitgetrokken en liet dit stiekem aan mij zie. Pffffffff kreeg het er behoorlijk warm van en jullie bleven giechelen. Jullie bleven doorgaan met mij en elkaar opgeilen. Ik zag dat jij wat op een bierviltje schreef en dat je de ober riep, jullie rekenden af en ik dacht nog shit ze nu gaan ze weg maar jij liep langs mijn stoel en gaf mij het bierviltje. Daarop stond: volg ons maar als je durft. Ik rekende snel mijn koffie af en liep achter jullie aan, onze auto’s stonden dicht bij elkaar en ik reed gewillig achter jullie aan. We reden richting een bos, was daar niet bekend maar dacht blijf volgen zal goed komen. Op een parkeerplaats aan de rand van het bos parkeerden jullie de auto, ik deed hetzelfde. Weet niet wat jullie in de auto allemaal bekokstooft hadden maar toen ik uit de auto stapt greep je mijn stropdas en zei: Kom jij maar eens mee. We liepen een stuk het bos in tot een open plek met een paar picknick tafels. Hier aangekomen begon jij de knoopjes van blouse open te knopen uit te doen en mijn stropdas werd losgeknoopt. Ga eens voor de tafel staan zei je vriendin en buk je. Ik gehoorzaamde maar en deed wat ze zei. Ze duwde me met mijn buik op de tafel en mijn benen werden gespreid. Het hout van de tafel schuurde over mijn inmiddels harde tepels. Ik moest met mijn handen de bankjes aan beide kanten vast houden. Daar stond ik aan de lange kant, zij kwam achter staan en deed mijn riem, de knoop en de rits open en stroopte mijn broek naar beneden. Mijn boxer lieten jullie aan, blijf maar lekker zo staan en geniet hoorde ik je vriendin zeggen. Ze sloeg me met mijn riem zachtjes op mijn billen, een gevoel van pijn en genot schoten door mij heen. Jij was inmiddels naar de andere kant van de tafel gelopen en via de bankjes op deze tafel geklommen. Je ging gespreid voor mij liggen nog met je rokje aan maar zonder slip. Whaw wat een geil gezicht maar je lag te ver weg om maar iets te kunnen doen. Ik strekte mijn hand uit om jou te gaan strelen maar deze werd ruw tegen gehouden door je vriendin: jij bent nog niet aan de beurt zei ze, laat je handen thuis en hou de banken vast. Zij begon jou te strelen en langzaam uit te kleden, ze had inmiddels zelf haar witte jurkje uitgedaan en stond in een witte doorschijnende stringbody naast jou. Ze kuste een van je harde tepels en met ene hand kneep ze de andere tepel. Hmmm het was een heerlijk gezicht twee van die geile vrouwen voor me die met elkaar speelden. Zij bewerkte je hele lichaam met haar tong en jij maakte haar body open en begon haar te vingeren. Wat een kwelling voor mij, ik mocht niets doen en mocht alleen maar kijken naar twee bloedgeile vrouwen. Ik zag aan je bewegingen dat je bijna klaarkwam maar je vriendin stopte met likken en ging achter mij staan. Ze trok mijn boxer uit, die inmiddels erg strak om mijn gezwollen pik zat en spreidde mijn benen weer, jij was inmiddels over tafel in mijn richting gekropen. Jij ging gespreid voor mij liggen en lag met hoofd tussen jou benen bij jou heerlijk natte poesje. Lik me beval jij en je vriendin begon mijn billen en bilspleet te likken en iets kouds erop te smeren. Wat je vriendin deed weet ik niet precies maar opeens voelde ik iets tussen mijn billen, iets hards kunststofachtig, volgens mij had ze een voorbind dildo omgedaan en probeerde deze dildo zachtjes in tussen mijn billen te duwen. Nu lagen we hier, ik jou likkend en geneukt worden door een bloedgeile meid van achteren. Had dit nog nooit zo meegemaakt maar vond het wel heerlijk. Onder het neuken trok jou vriendin mij ook nog af, we voerden het ritme op en ik merkte dat jij, ik en ook zij bijna klaar kwamen. Oh heerlijk riepen we alle drie, Oh wat lekker, toen jij klaarkwam was ik ook niet meer te stoppen en mijn sperma spoot tegen de tafel. Je vriendin kwam reageerde hierop ook met een gekreun en kwam ook klaar

18 October 2026

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Fourteen years! That’s how long I had gone without sex. Fourteen whole years. It sounds almost unbelievable when I say it out loud, but there it was, a huge chunk of my life spent without the touch of another person, without the excitement of being desired, and without that delicious anticipation of wondering what might happen when two people finally found themselves alone together. Somewhere along the way, I had convinced myself that perhaps that part of my life was over. Maybe I had missed my chance. Maybe sex, passion and all those wonderfully distracting feelings belonged to a younger version of me. Then one day, I decided I’d had enough of that nonsense. It was time to get back into the dating world. At first, it was all fairly innocent. A few conversations online, some phone calls, a little flirting here and there. I discovered that I could still enjoy a cheeky comment, that a man’s attention could make me smile at my phone like a teenager, and that the butterflies I thought had long since retired were apparently still very much employed. More importantly, I began to feel something waking up inside me. My confidence returned in little pieces. My curiosity grew, and I found myself thinking about things I hadn’t allowed myself to think about for years. I started to wonder what it would feel like to be touched again, kissed again, and wanted again. Then I met the man who changed everything. I had no idea at the time that he was a professional dom and would eventually introduce me to an entirely different side of myself, or that I would willingly follow him into a world I had been curious about but had never really explored. The world of kink. The Phone Call That Started It All It began with a phone call. His voice wasn’t necessarily the sort that would make me weak at the knees. He didn’t have one of those deep, smooth radio voices that belonged in a late-night advertisement for expensive whisky. But there was something about the way he spoke, the confidence in his words, and the way he seemed to know exactly how to get my attention. It wasn’t just what he said. It was how he said it. He had a way of making a simple instruction feel charged with possibility. He spoke with a quiet authority that caught me off guard, and I found myself listening more intently than I probably should have admitted. Then he told me to touch my breasts. I hesitated for only a moment before following his instructions. My hand moved tentatively at first, as though I were rediscovering something familiar that had somehow become foreign to me. I had spent so many years without another person that even the idea of sharing such an intimate moment over the phone felt strange. But strange didn’t mean unpleasant. Quite the opposite. He encouraged me to take my time, to pay attention to what I was feeling, and to stop thinking so much about what I was supposed to do. That was easier said than done. My mind had a terrible habit of wandering off to analyse everything, even when it would have been far more useful to simply enjoy the moment. His voice brought me back. I found myself smiling at some of his instructions, surprised by how readily I responded to his confidence. There was something exciting about allowing somebody else to take the lead, even in such a small way. I didn’t have to plan the conversation or decide what came next. For once, I could simply listen and experience it. I held my nipples in my fingers, squeezing them hard. My nipples responded immediately and a slow moan left my lips. It reminded me that this is my most erotic zone. As the conversation continued, I became increasingly absorbed in the moment. My embarrassment faded, replaced by curiosity and a growing awareness of just how much I had missed feeling desired. Then came another instruction. Let my tongue roll over y erect, hard, sensitive nipples. I followed it, discovering that I could still surprise myself. I could still be playful. I could still feel that spark of anticipation that makes you forget about the rest of the world for a little while. Who knew? Certainly not the woman who had spent fourteen years believing that part of her life was firmly closed. He encouraged me to move lower, and I reached for my vibrator, laughing softly at myself as I did. There was something wonderfully ridiculous about how quickly an ordinary evening had turned into something I would never have imagined doing a few weeks earlier. And then, just as I was completely caught up in the moment, the call cut out. For a second, I stared at my phone. Seriously? After all that build-up, technology had decided to make an appearance. Apparently, even intimate moments weren’t safe from the usual modern inconveniences. But I was already lost in my own thoughts and feelings, and I continued enjoying my private moment. My phone rang again. Without really thinking, I answered it automatically. What I hadn’t realised was that the call had come through on FaceTime. There are moments in life when your brain simply refuses to cooperate. This was one of them. Suddenly, there he was on my screen, and there I was, caught completely off guard. I honestly couldn’t decide who received the bigger shock. Him, unexpectedly finding himself looking at me in the middle of a very private moment, or me, realising that he could see far more than I had intended him to see. For several seconds, I could barely think. Then the absurdity of the situation began to sink in. Fourteen years without sex, and when I finally started exploring that side of myself again, I managed to turn a phone call into an accidental video encounter. It was hardly the dignified return to dating I might once have imagined. But it was certainly memorable. And, judging by what happened next, it didn’t put him off. Seven Minutes A couple of days later, we arranged to meet at his apartment for dinner. I was excited, nervous and trying very hard to behave as though meeting a man I had already shared such an intimate experience with was a perfectly ordinary thing to do. It wasn’t. There was a different energy between us now. We had already crossed a boundary that most first dates never approached, and I knew there was a mutual curiosity about what might happen when we were finally in the same room. I tried not to overthink it. That, naturally, meant I overthought practically everything. When I arrived, he showed me around his apartment. The city view was beautiful, stretching out beyond the balcony, and I found myself admiring the scenery while trying not to appear too conscious of the man standing beside me. We eventually made our way into his bedroom, where he suggested lying on the bed to enjoy the view from a different angle. I settled down, still taking in the city lights, when he suddenly announced, with unmistakable amusement, that seven minutes had passed. I turned to him, puzzled. “Seven minutes since you got here,” he explained, “and you’re already naked on my bed.” I stared at him for a moment. Then I laughed. There was no denying the truth of it. We had barely begun the evening, and already I had managed to skip several chapters of the traditional dating handbook. But the truth was that I felt comfortable with him. Nervous, certainly, but comfortable too. The anticipation was there, and so was the knowledge that I was doing something I wanted to do. For the first time in fourteen years, I wasn’t wondering whether I would ever experience that kind of closeness again. I was right in the middle of it. And I was ready to enjoy every moment. Rediscovering Touch When he moved closer, the teasing laughter between us gradually softened. He kissed me, and I became acutely aware of how long it had been since I had shared that sort of closeness with another person. There was something almost overwhelming about it, not because I didn’t want it, but because I had forgotten how powerful such a simple thing could feel. A kiss. A touch. The warmth of another body beside mine. I had missed more than sex. I had missed the connection, the anticipation, the feeling of being able to communicate without having to find the perfect words. When he began kissing my breasts, I found myself wanting to tell him what I liked rather than quietly hoping he would guess. “Harder,” I told him. He responded, and a low moan escaped me before I could even think about it. There was no point pretending to be shy about what I wanted. I was a grown woman, and I had spent enough years putting parts of myself aside. If I was going to rediscover this side of my life, I wanted to be honest about what felt good and what I wanted more of. I was surprised by how quickly the nervousness began to disappear. His touch reminded me that intimacy didn’t have to be complicated. It could be playful, exploratory and full of laughter. It could involve speaking up, giving directions and discovering things about yourself that you hadn’t known, or had simply forgotten. I could feel myself relaxing into the experience. For once, I wasn’t worrying about how I looked or whether I was doing everything right. I wasn’t trying to perform some imaginary version of what a woman was supposed to be. I was simply there, enjoying the moment. And that was a wonderful feeling. When his attention moved lower, I realised just how much anticipation had been building between us. I was nervous about how my body would respond after such a long time without sex, but he was patient and attentive, allowing me to settle into the experience rather than rushing ahead. There was a little awkwardness, as there often is when two people are discovering each other. But that only made the experience feel more real. We talked. We laughed. That combination turned out to be far more important than I had expected. Seven Seconds to Heaven Oh how I have missed this. Skin and mouth against each other. I could have exploded just with that. I felt his hand against my clit and exploring my wet, hot pussy. After not having had sex for so long, I was tighter than an unclaimed virgin. He was playing with my clit, one finger in my tight pussy and immediately I was squirting all over his bed. Cumming so hard over and over. I begged him not to stop and he didn’t. He put a finger in my arse and the feeling going down the back of my legs was electrically charged. I couldn’t think, I could only feel. Over and over again I kept cuming. Just went I thought it couldn’t get any better, he got out a wand and placed it against my clit. Holy fucking hell. I came stronger that the previous 5 times. Squirting again before collapsing with exhaustion. I certainly wasn’t prepared for how attentive he would be. He seemed genuinely interested in learning what worked for me, rather than treating the evening as a race to reach a particular destination. Every time I thought I had discovered the limit of what I could comfortably experience, he seemed to find another way to surprise me. I remember laughing and telling myself that his hands could probably solve world peace. It was an outrageous thought, but I am still prepared to stand by it. The man clearly had skills. More than that, he had patience. He paid attention to my reactions and adjusted what he was doing instead of assuming that he knew everything. Before long, I was overwhelmed by sensation and struggling to put my feelings into words. I had forgotten how intense pleasure could be. I had forgotten how completely it could occupy your attention, pushing everything else into the background until there was nothing to think about except the moment itself. I remember asking him not to stop. He didn’t. The experience became increasingly intense, and I found myself reaching a point where thinking seemed almost impossible. There was no room for analysing, worrying or planning what came next. I could only concentrate on what I was feeling and trust myself to communicate when I needed something to change. When the intensity finally eased, I lay there exhausted, astonished and more than a little amused by my own reaction. Fourteen years. Fourteen years of believing that this part of my life might be behind me, and here I was, discovering that my capacity for pleasure and excitement had not disappeared at all. If anything, I was beginning to realise how much there was left to explore. And we weren’t finished discovering things yet. The Wand Just when I thought the evening couldn’t possibly surprise me any further, he introduced another item from his collection. A wand. No wonder they call it magic. The moment it tuned me I let out the loudest moan. He kissed me to muffle the sound and not let it echo through all 10 floors of the building. I was beginning to understand that this was part of what made the experience different. He wasn’t simply introducing new sensations. He was inviting me to discover what I enjoyed, When he began, I quickly discovered that the experience was far more intense than I had anticipated. My reaction took me by surprise. A much stronger orgasm and squirting over his bed. I laughed, gasped and tried to find words to describe what I was feeling, only to discover that words were becoming rather difficult to organise. I had spent so much of my life believing I needed to be in control of everything that it was almost liberating to find myself completely absorbed in the moment. The intensity built, and I reached a point where I could do little more than surrender to the experience while trusting him to pay attention to my responses. When it finally passed, I was utterly exhausted. I sank back against the bed, trying to catch my breath, with a mixture of disbelief and satisfaction that was impossible to hide. I had genuinely not expected my evening to turn out this way. But then, perhaps that was the point. I was discovering that intimacy could be an adventure, that pleasure could take many forms, and that there was no rule saying I had to have everything figured out before I began exploring. For someone who had spent fourteen years away from the world of sex, it was quite an introduction. No Need to Rush One thing worth mentioning is that penetration didn’t happen that night. There was no rush to make it happen, no expectation that we had to follow a particular sequence or reach some predetermined destination. Instead, the evening was about discovering what I enjoyed, becoming comfortable with his touch and allowing me to rediscover my body at my own pace. That mattered to me. After such a long time without sex, I had wondered how I would feel when the moment finally arrived. Would I be nervous? Would I feel awkward? Would I be able to relax? The answer, I discovered, was that I could feel all those things and still enjoy myself. I didn’t have to pretend to be experienced in everything. I didn’t have to hide my questions or act as though I knew exactly what to expect. I could be curious. I could be honest. And I could take my time. There was something reassuring about knowing that the evening didn’t have to end with penetration to be satisfying. We had shared an intimate experience, learned more about each other and opened the door to possibilities that had previously existed only in my imagination. Whatever happened next could happen when we were both ready. For now, that was enough. Dinner Can Wait By this stage, dinner had become little more than a forgotten idea. The evening had taken a very different direction from the one I had imagined when I first arrived at his apartment. Somewhere between the city view, the teasing comments and the discoveries in his bedroom, food had become decidedly unimportant. What mattered now was slowing down. He looked after me, giving me time to recover and making sure I was comfortable. There was a tenderness to that part of the evening that I hadn’t necessarily anticipated, and I appreciated it more than I could easily explain. After all the excitement, it was reassuring to experience that quieter side of intimacy. There was no need to rush away or pretend that nothing significant had happened. We could simply relax, talk and enjoy being together. I began to understand that kink wasn’t just about instructions, anticipation or trying new things. At least for me, it also involved trust, communication, boundaries and the ability to feel safe enough to explore. The attention he gave me afterwards was every bit as important as the excitement that had come before it. I had arrived at his apartment as a woman who was curious about rediscovering sex after fourteen years. I left the evening with a great deal more to think about. And a rather different understanding of what I might enjoy. When I look back on that evening, I still find myself smiling. It wasn’t simply about the physical sensations or the novelty of doing something new. It was about discovering that I hadn’t lost that part of myself. It had been waiting quietly in the background, perhaps a little neglected, but certainly not gone. I could still flirt. I could still laugh at myself. I could still feel nervous anticipation and enjoy being desired. And apparently, I could still surprise myself in ways I would never have predicted. That first phone call had opened a door. The accidental FaceTime moment had provided an unforgettable story. The seven-minute comment had given us something to laugh about, and the evening itself had introduced me to a world of possibilities I was only beginning to understand. I had no idea where the journey would lead. I only knew that I was curious, that I wanted to keep exploring, and that fourteen years was quite long enough to spend wondering what I might be missing. My return to sex hadn’t followed the script I might once have imagined. There had been no perfect romantic setting, no carefully rehearsed seduction and certainly no dignified plan. Instead, there had been laughter, nerves, unexpected discoveries and a man who seemed determined to show me that pleasure could be about far more than simply getting from one point to another. And the best part? I was only just getting started. This was right on 12 months ago. Time was needed to prepare me to extend the size of my pussy to be able to have sex. But boy was tethered a lot of fun in getting that done.

18 October 2026

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I went over to a friends place for lunch and to leave my car there for them to use tomorrow for the husband Mike to get to work and as I am retired. I take there cars to be serviced and we were sitting around talking about one thing and another and Mike came straight out and asked me how’s my sex life going Is going I said I can always do with more as the one you don’t have is the one that you can never catch up and Mike said can he asked me something personal and said I see you looking at his wife's boobs and were they a turn me on of course they are I like a big set of boobs what guy doesn’t and would I be interested in having a 3 some with them and before I could answer and say anything Toni got up and started to walk away and then turned around and lifted her dress up to reveal her naked body and the hairy pussy I have ever seen and she came over and said well you can see me naked now it’s my turn to show her what I have who was I to say no to and I stood up and put on a strip show and she grabbed my man hood and said let’s go to the bedroom and I looked around to see Mike underdressing his self and we got to the bedroom and she pushed me down on the bed and started sucking me I had to stop her as I was ready to blow Mike was in the bathroom by this time and was sitting on a bedside chair and had his man hood in his hand and it was huge a good 10 to 12 inches and thick I thought mine was thick but I had nothing on his anyway she said it was my turn to suck on her pussy and nibble on her clit I had never tasted a pussy. That's wasn’t hair less before but she was different and gee she tasted great my tongue was working over time and it didn’t take long before she gave me a taste of her juices and she went down between my legs and started sucking o my man hood and slipped a couple of fingers in my hole and was fucking me like no tomorrow and I had to tell her to stop as I wanted my load to go inside her and she jumped on my man hood and road me like no tomorrow and was facing me and as she had E size boobs I could reach and play with them an suck on her large pointing nipples and she call Mike over and started to give home a blow job and what a site it was and next thing she said fill me with your cum and next thing she said she was coming I and I no sooner felt her juices and I unloaded in side her and then Mike gave her his load we went and had a shower together as there shower is big enough for 4 people and anyway they said when I swap cars over tomorrow would I like to stay for tea I said depends on what tea is if it’s what I just had as main course yes please so hopefully it will but they both said would I like to go away with them next week to there weekend cottage and yes I would love that and she said on one condition and that was she wanted to watch us guys wank each other and if she liked what see seen she would let us play with her

18 October 2026

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I was in my early thirties. Tall and very fit. Long hair and ripped body. Tarzan so to speak. I was moving into a small unit in inner city Sydney and found an ad for a second hand bar fridge not far from my new place. I wrote and organised to pick it up. She was nice over the phone and two blocks away. I arrived and found the tiniest little Asian goddess ever. She asked me if I had someone to help me carry it down the stairs and when I said I’d handle it she was like wow, you are strong. Well as I bend down to pick it up I felt her hand against my backside. I dropped it immediately. I was taken back by her brazen expression. She said are you strong enough to pick me up to which I just bent down and heaved her over my shoulder. She then pointed to her bedroom. Damn. What followed next was hours of exploring her warmth from her ankles to her thighs. She dropped an ambrosia over my lips as I explored her tight sexy body. We indulged in some gymnasts style sex that had me thinking seriously about taking it up as a sport I especially loved her eye contact as she devoured me and smiled. Her tongue flicking and sliding up and down my shaft and then she climbed back on and rode me for a little while again and again It ended with a stream of my hot stickiness against her neck and chin. I cleaned up and pick up the bar fridge and we parted Needless to say I made a few weekly visits to her apartment until she need to fly back home.

18 October 2026

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When we caught up with the couple, I don’t think I realised just how exciting the night was going to become. There was something about being together, the chemistry between us, and the way the atmosphere slowly changed that made the whole experience feel different. Before long, the four of us were sharing a moment that was intimate, exciting and a little outside the ordinary. The girl and I were both giving my husband attention, and I could see just how much he was enjoying himself. Seeing him so relaxed, happy and completely caught up in the moment made the experience even more exciting for me. I am such a giver and knowing my husband was taking it all in made me just so wet. It wasn’t just about what was happening, it was about sharing something so intimate with another woman while being there with my husband. There was a real sense of trust, excitement and spontaneity that made the memory stick with me still to this day it’s like it happened yesterday but was a few years back now. Looking back, it was one of those experiences that was hard to put into words, but definitely not something I forgot in a hurry.

13 October 2026

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